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Weekly Contest #370
Color bled into the sky: rosy pinks, dusky blues, a smudge of orange. Lampposts slowly flickered on, casting their spotlights on errant sidewalk squares and parking spots. The restaurant was raucous, people out on a Sunday evening before work beckoned once more. Voices could be heard around the back. In an empty parking lot, two young women; alight with conflict. The only break in the night’s pleasant mood. One stood tight like a well-strung instrument, her magenta nails clenched in fists. Vivian. “Andy, please....
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