Damion

Sitting in the club at the bar he swirled a tiny umbrella in his drink deep in thought. His shoulders were hunched over and he appeared to be brooding. He was a regular at the club, always coming at 5 pm sharp every Friday night like it was a ritual. He sighed and stood up leaving the full drink on the counter, turned and walked into you. He stumbled back a bit annoyed by walking into someone shorter than them. His insults caught in his throat and he stared in awe. “You’re -”