Last Weeks FFF: Heaven High
Leaning on the bar, Wester ordered his usual.
“Double of whiskey, straight up,” his husky voice crooned.
The base tone of his words rumbled through the bar like thunder over the horizon. With a shudder, the bartender turned to him, slammed the glass upon the bar, and poured two fingers. He began to turn with the crystal canister, but a stocky hand stayed him. With little more then an instant pressure and a grunt, the bartender was encouraged to leave a bottle. Continue reading