Written for OLWG# 207
Billy Bob Soulier scratched the stubble on his chin and crushed his cigarette in the overflowing glass ashtray. He knew that it read, “The Silver Penny” on the bottom, even though he’d covered the lettering with ash and dog ends. He’d been sitting on that barstool all morning, and he’d seen it before it was covered up.
From his shirt pocket, he pulled a five-spot and tossed it on the bar, signalling to Emi that he needed another drink. She pulled herself up from the stool she liked to perch on and went to work. Billy Bob lived to watch Emi work. She wore her dark, tightly curled hair in a #2 buzz. She stood well over six feet tall. The girl was long, lithe, and lean. She moved with an economy of motion that he admired. He could imagine her sleepin’ in the kitchen with her feets in the hall.
Emi sat his Bloody Mary down and lifted the fiver from the dark wood of the bar. With the bill in hand, she glided down towards the old National Register. Billy Bob was daydreaming about Emi as he watched her drift. Her head started bobbing, ever so slightly, as the jukebox played an old Dorothy Moore song. He smiled.
This week’s prompts were:
- kick up your heels
- a barroom in New Orleans
- every week