Today's Story: "Closing Time"

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I went to an estate sale Wednesday, filled with fine china, crystal, bad art, and very costly tchotchkes.  And bought only three small metal frames, of no special value, for a dollar apiece.  Then Marianne and I went out to lunch at the Chestnut Grill, where I wrote two short-shorts to fill two of the frames. 

The third frame I kept as was, because the repop photo within, of an elegant and brooding woman, inspired the following flash fiction:



Closing Time
Granted, we’re none of us getting any younger.  Still.  Look at me.  Eyes, mouth, breasts, all pleasant to behold and in good working order.  So why am I still in the bar at 1 a.m.?  When I came here, I thought that if I were approached by someone nice enough, I’d give him my number, no more.  An hour later, I threw in a kiss.  By midnight, I was all the way up to a night of passion he’d never forget.  Now?  Buddy, I’ll make you suffer as no man has suffered before. 
At last, I see you heading this way, ambition in your eyes. 
“Hello,” I’ll say, “My name is Jeannie.  You’d know what that meant if you’d read the Arabian Nights.”
-- Michael Swanwick, 2/27/13
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