Look at Her


"Look at her," my friend said. "Just look."

I looked at him instead. He was smitten. So I took another swig of ale and turned to look in the opposite direction.

What I didn't say was, "Yeah, but the cigarette. And what's that under her nose? And in her lip?"

"I'm going to talk to her," my friend said.

"Do what you have to do," I said less than encouragingly. But he was gone, halfway across the room.

"Catchya later," I said. I took one last swig and I was gone, too, out the door and on my way home.


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