by Jeff Glovsky
She tries to concentrate. She’s got her book and glass of vino…She sips languidly, though, someplace else. She laughs, and then she shakes her head.
Her book tents on the table now. She’s pissed ’cause she can’t smoke here. She’s all furious, and looking for someone to turn her anger on. He’ll do, she seems to reckon…Turns and snipes his way unsexily.
He listens for a minute, smiling.
Senses his mistake, and leaves.