“So, how’s it been?” she asked again, without paying attention to my distraction.I took a deep breath. “Oh well,” I said finally. “If you�...�re curious like that, let’s do it, but on my terms.” I poured the rest of the wine into her glass and put the cork back in the bottle, before putting it sideways on the table. “Come on, spin!” I told her.“What, spin the bottle?” she asked.“Exactly,” I replied. “If it’s my turn, you can ask a question. If it’s your turn, you’ll do as I tell you.”She sipped the. Relieved to be finally on his way, Bingo lengthened his stride and thought only of the long walk. He was accustomed to items of forgettable landscape that rushed past tram windows and now there was space and effort as he passed each morsel of the journey, each environment aspect magnified by his tediously short footfalls, he eyed things like the old Moreton Bay’s in the park, the museum’s off-kilter monolithic slab of a roof, with interest. Breaks in the heavy traffic at this late hour made it. His teeth were perfect; straightand porcelain white with no sign of any dental work, (I later learnedthat he'd worn braces as a child). He was blessed with adorable lips.Lips any woman would have died for; full and pouty and a perfect cupidbow shape. His blue/grey eyes appeared almost too large for hisdelicate elfin face. Long dark lashes curled upward and appeared to beblackened with mascara. His rich auburn hair was shining with health,catching the light as his curls bobbed and shook. I. Two songs later, she changed her mind: she would have preferred booing. There was some drunk guy with a bunch of friends yelling out whatever came to mind, alcohol having removed any brain-to-mouth filter. She rolled her eyes as she heard him yell out "Free- biirrrrd!" As if no one had ever done that in the past forty years. Ryan wondered if it was the same group that went to every bar, or if there was some kind of franchise where clubs or bars could order the Annoying Drunk Customers. At last.
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