Memory Sticks (58)
She orders a G and T, no lemon, and looks at it sitting there on the bar for a moment, as if she’s not sure what do do with it.
Then she downs it in one.
She turns around on the stool to look at the dancefloor, trying to be graceful but wobbles slightly and hopes that no one saw her. self-conscious, she straightens the dress and clamps her knees together, locking her heels over the lower rung of the stool. And she watches.
When she was younger, she used to fidget in places like this, but now, no matter how she feels, she finds it easy to be still. Even when the processor hasn’t taken over, the discipline it imposes is easy to maintain. It’s her nature now; not even a second one.
It’s 23.07.
At 23.49, she turns back to the bar, this time keeping her balance, and orders another drink. Across the bar, she sees a young man looking at her.