A drabble is a very short story of exactly 100 words. Feel free to join in and write your own drabbles on Fridays and tag them with “friday drabble” and on Twitter with the hashtag #fridaydrabble.
She’d seen him, of course. Heard his hearty laugh from halfway across the room. She could see his table fairly well, though she fought not to stare, to draw his attention.
His date – and she was pretty sure it was a date – seemed young. Younger than her. She fiddled with her red-hair. Flirtatiously. So much for his not liking red-hair. The girl – and she was a girl, make no mistake – had that lithe, runner’s physique. So different than her own “curvaceousness”, which he’d claimed excited him.
Did she care? What he did or who he saw clearly didn’t matter to her.