Night Out
looking
into space - permanently
the
tightened jaw the
restive partner golfballed napkin special
wine half drunk the
silence almost breaks
the plates the
loo visits (was
it five times?) the
frost bites waiters
fingers things
get dropped exclusion
zone declared the
stifled sob the
sudden crash of
chair on noisy floor the
dash to the door the
young man startles - the
fumbled PIN the
crumpled bill the
‘see you mates’ to
the boggling staff - now
which way has
she gone or
has she cut and run? in
a wink the hunt is on
so
far as we can tell - our
Bistro sadly does these little deaths so well. Liz Callingham |