Artist. Writer. Designer.

Nights like this. But one last pint to pour. And, with the glass in her fingers, she moves. Bites her lip, as she grins for the golden beer sparkling in the glass. If it has to end – she slams the pint on the bar, a giggle slips past her lips as the head foams over her hand. He raises his eyebrows. The question’s there, but instead of asking, he hands over his credit card, “And one for yourself, darling.” “Oh, and I need it, sir.” With a wink she spins, finishing the account.

My next piece of assessment is a short story. There is no original on this blog. Enjoy! xx, Kristin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Clang. A drink is placed on the bar. He nods. Grips the top of the glass. Drags it closer to where he sits hunched over the worn wood. Stroking the rim, he shifts in his seat. He leans further onto his elbows to stare into the amber colored ale. A long sigh. He lifts the glass. Holds it to his lips an