madison_avenue (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} madison_avenue) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} silverage, |
No.
"Lyndon Johnson - for the future."
No. He sighed, and after a moment, crossed out "the" and wrote "her".
Maybe.
He took a sip of his coffee, and sighed. His head throbbed, his stomach churned. It had been, what...six whiskeys last night? That was as many as he was able to count, anyway. Six whiskeys and probably more, and boy was he paying for it now. Living alone was starting to show its ugly side.
He glanced up at the waitress as she refilled his cup. He felt her eyes boring into him knowing there was only one reason a businessman would be drinking coffee this late in the day, and that was because he had drank far too much last night. He swallowed hard, and glanced away from the waitress at a woman sitting by herself. She was young. Pretty. Mysterious.
Her lips. Her eyelids fluttering. All a beautiful, feminine rhythm.
"Is there anything else I can get you?"
He shook his head no, and stared back down at the paper. He tried to sketch the woman sitting alone, but she looked too childlike. He drew a flower in the girl's hand.
"Johnson. For her future" he wrote again. It sounded good, but maybe that was just a product of his ever-worsening headache.
He sighed heavily again, and glanced back up at her. Did she look familiar? Was she a client's daughter? He sat for a long while trying to place where he had seen her, unaware that he had been staring at her for minutes at a time.