A saunter, a stroll, a brisk trot.
She watched as he strode past her every few seconds, buried deep in conversation with someone on the phone.
Friend? A lover? Maybe his mom? Or was he closing a deal?
Taking a deep breath, she reached out and stopped him in mid-stride.
In surprise, he looked up.
‘Hon, you want anything else?’
‘Oh, um, no thank you. I think I’m done.’
She leaned back and said, ‘Gotta close up. Some of us gotta head home, you know?’
‘Oh. . . yeah, sure sure. Sorry. I didn’t realise.’
Tossing a smile at the patron, the lady bartender gave him a thumbs up. Once the doors closed behind him, she pulled out a notepad from under the counter and started writing in it.
She liked this job. Gave her a chance to watch people and write stories about them too.
Day 22 of Daily Writing