I was putting away a clean tray of glasses when she staggered
up to the bar.
“Whisky. Double. Straight.” came the order, in a voice that
was clearly attempting to remain calm.
“A drink for someone with a heavy heart.” I observed as I
poured it. She laughed without a trace of humor.
“Let’s just say that someone I cared about… Didn’t care
about me.” she said bitterly,
before downing the drink, shuddering at the taste. “Another, please.”
“Sorry to hear that…” I said as I poured again.
A bullet casing chose this moment to fall out of her purse.
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