Mixed Drinks

by Crorey Lawton

"Excuse me, did you get my fuzzy navel?" She leaned over the faded fake burl of the table in the booth, her delicate hands pressed into the wet sheen spread unevenly across the surface. "Erm," I stammered, forgetting for a moment that my teammates were in the booth with me. "I ordered a Manhattan..." but my voice trailed off as I realized that the sweet drink I had been sipping on was not what I ordered. "That's OK," she said, leaning in, "because I was not expecting what I got, either." Removing a hand from the table, she made it an offering to me, saying, "I'm Sophia."

6S - C3

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