Dizzy Spell - Michael Gray
85,75,1 with Michael, if you could? I hope you still write cause omg I just found you and ilysm?
Winter evenings were deceptive. They were cold, and dark, giving their will to the night before they’d even properly begun. You knew it was only seven, but it felt like midnight as you stood there, shivering on the corner with your coat pulled tight. Your friend was late, as she always was, and you were swiftly giving up hope. C’mon, Alice, where are you? You stared in the direction you expected her to come from, hoping to see her figure in the darkness but finding nothing.
Turning on heel, you headed toward the closest source of warmth: a pub. The Garrison to be specific, a place you’d always walked past but never thought to visit yourself. With icy fingertips and little patience, now was a better time than any to change that.
As you drew closer, like a disgruntled moth to the warm flame of cheap liquor, you couldn’t help but notice the lack of drunkards drifting in and out of the Garrison’s doors. Oddly quiet for a Friday night.
With a gentle push, you entered, immediately feeling the relief of warmth. You were still smiling from the satisfaction of it when you opened the second, interior door, into the pub.
Oh my God. The smile dropped quickly as you laid eyes on the scene before you.