Carol Ann

Carol Ann sits at the bar, the soft hum of chatter and clinking glasses enveloping her like a comforting yet distant melody. The blue of her blouse mirrors the deep, inviting hue of the cocktails lining the shelves, while the bottles of alcohol glint like stars in the dim light. Her eyes, tinged with a quiet longing, scan the crowd for a familiar face that never appears. A gentle sigh escapes her lips as she brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering on the stem of her glass as if it were a lifeline. The evening stretches on, filled with the promise of a missed connection and the bittersweet taste of anticipation. Here, amidst the lively chaos of the bar, she waits—not just for her date, but for a moment that might never come.