Margaritaville

8DB325E1-8727-492A-8515-4784748861F1“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” Dave said.

“What do you mean?” Gregg asked. “Are you talking about you and Deirdre?”

“Yeah, she really lost it the other night,” Dave sighed. “She said that we’re just not in the same orbit.”

“What did she mean by that?”

“Who knows?” Dave said. “I think she has a strong dislike for my circle of friends.”

“Wait! She doesn’t like me? What a bitch.”

“Not you specifically,” Dave said. “She thinks my friends are pulling me down.”

“Hey, buddy, trust me, we got your back,” Gregg said, giving Dave a friendly hug. “Besides, do you really want to mortgage your future with some pillow-headed witch like Deirdre? You’re better off without her.”

“I don’t know, Gregg,” Dave said. “I really do like her.”

“I know just what you need, buddy,” Gregg said. “A new Mexican restaurant just opened up on Mission Street. It’s rumored to serve one mean margarita. A few of those, my friend, and you’ll be saying, ‘Deirdre who?’”


Written for Paula Light’s Three Things Challenge, where the three things are “witch,” “pillow,” and “margarita.” Also for these daily prompts: Ragtag Daily Prompt (lost), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (orbit), Word of the Day Challenge (dislike), Your Daily Word Prompt (trust), and The Daily Spur (mortgage).

Sunday Photo Fiction — Margaritaville

img_1651Jimmy sat alone at the small table at the dive bar in Key West. He was facing the entrance to the bar, nursing a margarita for the past half hour. He looked at his watch and wondered if his ex-wife, Jane, was going to stand him up again.

The bartender came over to Jimmy’s table and asked him if he wanted another drink, but Jimmy waved him off. The last thing he wanted was for Jane to see him drunk. Assuming, of course, that Jane even showed up.

Jimmy looked at his watch again. “Fuck it,” he said to himself, and signaled the bartender to fix him another margarita. When the bartender brought the drink over, he set it down in front of Jimmy and said, “I hope she’s worth it.”

“She talked about giving it another go,” Jimmy said. “Maybe actually getting back again.” He sighed and took a large sip of his margarita. “But it appears that she’s a no show.”

The bartender looked toward the bar’s entrance when he saw movement through the corner of his eye. “That her?” he asked Jimmy.

Jimmy looked up. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“She’s definitely worth it, mate,” the bartender whispered.

(199 words)


Written for today’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt from Susan. Photo credit: Susan Spaulding.