Scotch on the Docks

A 75-word novel, a single woman, seeking…

Damn. The tissue box is empty again,
she whined, reaching instead for her Scotch.
Arianna had always preferred spiced rum
until she met Rafael,
the tall stranger standing on the dock,
alone, in the rain.

Like the condensation on her icy glass,
tears flowed down her cheeks.
Watching Rafael sail away,
she felt as empty as that tissue box.
She turned back to her Scotch.

“Hello, do you need a hanky?”
offered the handsome stranger.

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