by Sparks In Shadow
“Is it me or are bells ringing?”
“Pick-up line?” She hoped he’d say something worth having turned her head.
“What’s wrong?” He settled onto a barstool, brown jacket with jeans seeming unpretentious, his roughness muted like errant strands of hair, smoothed. “Not all right to try something new?”
Was he getting argumentative? She’d rather the seeming things be true. “Say whatever you like. It could be illuminating.”
Sipping Mojito, icy like the season, she shifted her shimmery pashmina up over both shoulders as snowy wind snaked around a new patron, with clanging from the corner Santa’s bell.
He chuckled. “Is it me? Or are bells ringing?”
The prompt was, “…is it me or are bells ringing?” from Julia.