The Last Night

Boots skid through the skinny puddles of beer on the red floor. Dancing as the music’s turned up with the last set of the band. Stepping with the beat, she dances. Shifts and spins behind the bar with a smile. The power of alcohol drives away thoughts of tomorrow and gives a genuine light to her strut as she points to the next man behind the bar. She has the key now. His voice faint in the bar’s Friday night noise, but lips read clear. She knows her job. Pour the beer and make the guest smile. Make him smile. Best job she ever had, though tonight she’s not meant to work. Drunk, dressed for a night of clubbing that never happened. The whole bar is with her. They don’t know how she needs it, but they dance with her. Hands in the air. They shout to the music. Her mate grabs her hips to swing them to the beat. With laughter they sing loud and out of key. A moment to be happy and to realize that right now the moments are counted. Heads down, hands move, they all laugh and serve. With the obnoxious chime of last call she’d be even closer to –

Well, the night always ends too soon.

– – –

xx, Kristin

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