The wind threw the hat off his head. It rolled down the street. He wanted it back, but it was ruined. Floating in a pothole filled with water.
Clinching his jacket, the man walked past the soaked houndstooth and into a dusty bar.
He lit a cigarette. Rubbed his eyes. The bartender just looked at him. Waiting.
White Russian, please. I've had one hell of a night.
submitted at 1:47am
18 October 2009
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