Heather says it will only take a bit, she must collect a few things. She knows the owner, there is nothing to fret about. Fran says okay. Fran sits on a barstool, little feet in sandals that don't quite reach the ground. It reeks a sour odor of liquor sweats and her nose crinkles in dismay. A man is seated next to her. Wolfish eyes burning holes in the side of her head; Fran pretends not to notice because Robin will chide that staring is impolite.
Hello little lady, he will smile with yellow teeth and thin lips.
Fran will nod her head politely and swing her legs. Wolfish man will lean closer, rancid breath fanning across the soft chub of her face.
Have a drink, he will say. Fran will say yes because the walk here made her throat quite dry.
Fran sips her drink and feels warm bitter liquid engulf her tongue under watchful gaze of wolfish man, ignoring the unfamiliar sourness that burns her throat like flames as she swallows. This drink is nothing quite like the drinks Robin would pour her in a cup with a spiral straw to drink before she goes to play with the neighbors. A new feeling swells in her chest, is it a sense of maturity? Maybe a feeling of adrenaline for the thrill of new things?
A band begins to play a tune and everyone rocks their seats and bellows out lyrics in out of tune fashion. A sturdy hand clasps her shoulder as would a leash on a mutt. Her heart begins to beat loudly in her ears providing unpleasant undercurrent for the booming laughter that the wolfish man lets out. He will cup her cheek with the rough affection of a calloused hand and whisper close in her ear how he had never laid eyes on a beauty like her. His gruff voice was hard to focus on through the cheering and clinking glasses of the lively drunkards.
Her eyelids feel the weight of cement and she fights to keep awake. Her cup becomes lighter in her hands, the drumming in her ears becomes more unbearable. She sways in tune with the hand gripping her shoulder and the joyous music that floods the room. She sways and sways and the laughter continues thunderously. She sways and sways and swaying turns to spinning. As is Fran's last night.
