FuBar’d

This week’s prompt is Heiress

***

It was the same deal every morning Liza opened the FuBar Lounge: a whiff of stale beer and the sticky-sweet aroma of bourbon hanging limbo-like in the air took her back thirty-some years.

Dad: Lay sprawled between our new, and already-stained pillow furniture and the baby-poop-colored shag carpeting.

Mom: spilled face down on the waterbed—riding the waves— with a half-empty (half-full?) bottle of Jim Beam.

I come by it honestly, she reasoned.

She opened her breakfast, a longneck Bud, with her teeth—a skill learned from Dad.

Liza chased it with a birth control pill.

The buck stops here.

 

SusanWritesPrecise

New Orleans Bar

Tell it like it is

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s