Angry Man with a Beard
Lisa Williams
A Beer
It was Friday night. He had a
creased brow, a magnificent mane and a lot to say. I watched him across the room
from behind my pint. Then he stopped, looked over towards our table. I dropped
my gaze. Cheeks coloured at being caught staring. I didn’t want to feel his
wrath.
"He’s coming over!" mouthed my
ventriloquist friend as she drained her bottle of beer then said out loud
“Right, I’m off.”
I woke early on Saturday.
Remembered the crowded bar. The attentive audience to his heated words. I ran my
finger along his unfurrowed brow and he purred.
About the author
Lisa Williams. Avid
reader. Domestic
Slattern. Writes a bit
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