#fridayflash: Bitter Dregs

Sip.

“I wish you’d talk to me, Denise.” Casey looks at his ex expectantly.
She frowns at her cup, a finger lying lightly on the rim.
“Look. I know it’s my fault. I got angry and said things I didn’t mean. Can you forgive me?” He keeps his voice low so no one can overhear. Not that there’s anyone close enough.

She holds the warm liquid in her mouth, letting it sit on her tongue. She imagines she’s Sherlock Holmes; wishes she were as smart, as observant, wishes she could deduce a way out of this.

Th...