Me. You. Coffee.

Tony checked his watch for the 3rd time that minute, then glanced at the door.
He was used to waiting, but that normally involved his wife.

“Would you like another, sir?”

For a beat he wondered what the waiter knew, before realising his glass was again empty.
He nodded and watched as the bottle glugged bravery into his glass.

“Does sir know what he wants?”

Tony’s eyes darted from the glass in his hand, to the door, and up to the questioning look from the waiter.

“You know what Fred, I think I do.” He cracked his knuckles.
“Check, please!”

---

Well hello there, it’s been a bit of a while since I’ve taken part in Friday Fictioneers. It’s not for the want of trying, I can tell you. Often a Wednesday would roll around and I’d think “Ah yes, Wednesday, the obvious day to do Friday Fictioneers.” And then some other bit of life would come gatecrashing those thoughts and I’d just not do it. But here I am and I’m going to bloody well hit publish and go find the link thing and all of that stuff that comes with it.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting, and to Lisa Fox for the photo prompt.

Go read everyone’s entry here.