how do you wanna face it? when the end is so close you can taste it
I know it’s not ideal, not knowin’ what I’m supposed to do. And I know Zeph’s tone, when he gets to soundin’ like that. So I just nod and take a sip when he says it’s better me than him dealing with the government. “Tendin’ bar gave me a sort of patience and keen eye, I spose. Maybe I just see it as an opportunity more ‘n politicking..” A shrug. I don’t really know what I think of it as - maybe a bone thrown to the Naturals to keep ‘em satisfied. A ‘look, I involved someone y’all trust, I can’t be that bad’ sort of thing. Who knows. I don’t, I’m not the one that can read minds.
So I stand and clap Zeph on the shoulder, trying to reassure him. “You know I will. If I can manage drunk men, I can manage sober ones,” I say with a little chuckle, placing my quarter-full glass in front of him. “Finish it, I gotta get to work.” And unless he has anything more to say, I pat his shoulder again and head up to the bar.
{Fin!}
So I stand and clap Zeph on the shoulder, trying to reassure him. “You know I will. If I can manage drunk men, I can manage sober ones,” I say with a little chuckle, placing my quarter-full glass in front of him. “Finish it, I gotta get to work.” And unless he has anything more to say, I pat his shoulder again and head up to the bar.
{Fin!}
