It was a typical Friday night at the Planet Bar. Money rubbed shoulders with money. Ladies preened and giggled over the top of cucumber daiquiris and rosewater mojitos all the while seeking out new targets, fresh wallets. The men played their part. Laughed a little too loud when needed. Stepped out for smokes. Drank their Johnnie Walker Blues. Ordered more with practiced flickers of fingers. In the midst of this maelstrom of entitlement and low grade sexual minestrone one man patrols his bar, an oasis of calm in an otherwise…
“Miss Auder.”
“Your honour?”
“Could you please remind your witness he is in a courtroom, not in his study writing a failed novel.” Continue reading “A Few Dead Men by Nik Eveleigh”
literally stories 