Page 277 of Ruthless Court

BELLWETHER BOOKS & COFFEE

FRIDAY NIGHT OPEN MIC

Poetry. Music. Stories. Comedy.

Coffee until midnight.

Used books upstairs.

I stare at it.

Used books.

Coffee.

People voluntarily reading poetry in public.

This place was designed in a laboratory to attract Hannah Goodwin.

I take a picture of the sign.

Then stand there for another thirty seconds because sending it now feels too fast.

I walked away from her eight minutes ago.

She’ll think I planned this.

I didn’t.

Which somehow makes it worse.

My phone is already in my hand.

I open our messages.

Her last text is from earlier.

Hannah: Fifty-eight minutes means fifty-eight minutes.

Mine beneath it:

Me: Your tyranny has been documented.

No response.

I type.

Me: Friday night.

Delete.

Too commanding.

Me: Are you free Friday?

Delete.

Sounds like I’m asking her to review film.