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Don't Look Black

Behind the bar the lines of coloured bottles swam before his bleary eyes. He gazed across the room to where Fiona sat with her drama society friends. She was deep in conversation with a handsome black man. The new short hairstyle suited her.

"Another large one, Charles?"

When he looked again their seats were empty.

His damp forehead felt heavy against his hand. Charles returned to his newspaper, neatly folded on a half completed crossword.

'Desdemona to Othello.' The answer had four letters.

'Wife.' He reached for his pen. 'How could I have missed that?'

 

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