#88 Grenadine and Shattered Glass

by Brad Lyonn

It had been a Tequila Sunrise. Now it settled to the floor in slow motion; a bright burst of tequila, orange juice, shattered glass and grenadine syrup. It was either a very poor shot or a very good one . . . depending on whether it had been intended as a warning.

Aden studied the stem of the cocktail glass still in his hand, a slice of orange now clinging to the sleeve of his white dinner jacket. A twinge of remorse for the sunrise and the relief that there had been no more shots mixed his emotions.

The cocktail lounge had lost its appeal so Aden returned to his hotel room. He was not a hero, he was scared, and he knew why he had been warned. Simply put, don’t write the story. But it was such an interesting story . . . he should write it.

Aden formed a plan. He would write the story, then decide whether to submit it. The best of both worlds, get it off his chest . . . and possibly survive as well.

The story was compelling. Crafted in only six hours; a masterpiece of revelation; and yes, too compelling. Aden realized he had to submit it; sometimes the story outweighs everything else. But, if he submitted it, the next shot would not be a warning. Was he willing to take that risk?

Aden studied the dialog on the screen. Save or Delete, which to choose. Aden called room service and ordered another tequila sunrise.