A poignant story--Caleb JW Brasset

It was a poignant story of incest. I told the guy I liked it very much. In fact I had read it as superficially as possible, to get the names and the gist of the plot, in case he asked, because I wanted to borrow money. He did ask about the story. He wanted to know what really worked. I mentioned some names and some turns in the plot. He asked, did I think it could be published? I said knowingly that it could.


We shook hands and went in different ways. I had borrowed sixty dollars. Another friend from another city called my mobile phone, and we had a conversation as I walked uptown. He was breaking up with his girlfriend. Some other girl had been putting the moves on him. He had to keep her away for a while. Next time she tries to kiss you stamp on her foot, I advised him. Secretly I was jealous of the excitement in his life.

After all that I was in a mood to be alone so I went to a place I hadn’t been to before. It was dimly lit and made of wood. I ordered from the bar and took my drink to the back, and sat at an empty table beside an empty table by the window. Because borrowed money is precious, the drink was most delicious. It was a whiskey sour, with lime not lemon, on ice, without sweetener or garnish. It would have been delicious no matter how it was paid for.