Dani, damn! Perfect waitress moment. Instant evocation of that burnt-coffee smell, too.

My Old Skool Ficathon entry got recced to some other community, and several random strangers have stopped by to say good things about it.

I am inordinately chuffed over this.

Nothing inordinate about it. Chuffed is the proper reaction.

Under the wire? In a cheat?

The fragments arced across the floor, and there was a thinner scattering everywhere, glistening glittery sharp bits that crunched beneath his bootsoles. She sat on the ledge by the window, knee bent, one ankle propped across her opposite knee, the sole of her foot upturned. Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip as carefully, with finger and thumb, she pulled splinters and shards from her thin slipper sole. At her quick gasp, he looked closer, and saw the long, curving bit she picked at come loose, the pointed end of it scarlet with her blood.

Soooooo....who'd like to suggest this week's topic? Because I am frazzled and stressed out and my brain, she no work so good no more.

A man walks into a bar.

A man walks into a bar.

Actually, I like it.

I do, too! So, then....

Challenge #12 (the broken-glass challenge) is now closed.

This week's challenge, as you may have noticed above, is the well-worn intro to countless jokes: "A man walks into a bar...." Drabble it. Doesn't have to be a joke; doesn't have to be funny. Just give us a man and a bar, and tell us about it.

Revenge. Vengeance.

Damn. Too late....