My patience, never a plentiful resource, is fraying fast. Jabbing a finger at the aproned server. “Can I have some service here, please.”
“Just one moment, sir.” And with an empty smile, he sweeps away to the far end of the bar.
“I see Mickey's emerged blinking and stretching into the sunlight,” says a voice beside me. The words are quiet on the scale of things, and tinged with amusement, but delivered right by my ear.
I startle, jerking my head sidelong. My hand shifts reflexively towards the holster under my jacket before reality catches up and I relax. “Hickman!”
He chuckles. “He’s an odd little runt, isn’t he, Mickey. Never would have had him down for a Goth.”
Feeling itchy, I scratch at my scalp. “No, me neither. Not sure about the sunlight either. I think that one might crumble
