Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #458

Words:  order, whiskey, empty, lift, touch, frothy, dish, singe, breathe, cottage, eggs, smoke

Her hair was the color
of smoky scotch whiskey.
She entered my bar,
and I could scarcely
breathe. There was
that rustle of silk
as her dress touched
the bar stool. It was
a weekday afternoon.
We were nearly empty.
I asked for her order,
and her velvet voice
singed my body.
“Maker’s Mark neat,”
she said, lifting
her chin slightly. Some
-how I knew a dish like
her would never order
one of those egg-whipped
frothy drinks of pink.
We had some light
banter, and I was
tempted to ask her
out.  Then I thought, 
why would a townhouse
go out with a shabby
cottage.

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