Page 2 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

I held my breath, turning around as slowly as was possibly appropriate without being considered rude.

The guy was massive. Even sitting, he towered over me on my stool. He was clean-shaven and completely bald, but it suited the shape of his head and the strong, angular features of his face. His black t-shirt stretched over his wide, muscular chest, his thick biceps nearly bursting out of its short sleeves. Black lines of an unusual tattoo circled his neck, disappearing under the neckline of his t-shirt only to continue down his entire right arm.

“I saw you finished your drink.” He tipped his chin at my glass. There was still a sip or two worth of wine left on the very bottom of it. “So I brought you another one.”

He slid a tall, narrow glass my way. It was filled with a shimmering pink-and-blue liquid I’d never seen served in this bar before.

“What’s this?”

“A cocktail.” He casually lifted an identical glass to his lips. “See? I have the same.” He appeared to take a sip and closed his eyes in pleasure. “It tastes like heaven. Try it.” He nudged the drink toward me.

I took the glass, just to be polite. The cocktail sparkled with something that looked like pink glitter on the surface.

“It looks pretty.” I sniffed the liquid. It had a pleasant scent of warm vanilla mixed with honey and a hint of something flowery. It made me think of a bakery, bringing up a warm feeling inside me. “Smells nice, too. But I’m not thirsty.”

I set the glass back on the bar counter, however, without tasting the liquid. The man wasn’t rude, but he was a stranger, offering me a drink before he even told me his name.

“As you wish.” He smiled.

I appreciated that he didn’t insist I accept his offering. Neither did he seem offended by my declining it. His smile remained pleasant.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Trez.”

“Trez?” It was a rather unusual one. “Is it short for something?”

“No. It’s my full name. Do you come here often?”

“Once or twice a month.”

The bar was on the way from work to my apartment, which made it convenient to stop for a drink every now and then. I only did it when Diane was with me, though. As much as I hated my job and loathed my life lately, I hadn’t stooped so low as to drink alone yet.

“Lucky for me you came tonight.” His smile grew wider, making him even more handsome.

I dropped my gaze to the drink he’d brought me. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

In general, I rarely gaped at the patrons in the bar and never spoke to anyone. Normally, I would just have a glass of wine, listen to the music, and enjoy having people around me for a while. It made me feel slightly better about myself, as though I too had some social life outside of work.

I would’ve remembered seeing Trez, though. He certainly stood out from the crowd—unforgettable.

“I’m new to the city,” he explained.

“Oh, where are you from?”

He gestured vaguely. “From out west.”

“West? Like the West Coast? Or closer?”

“Something like that,” he replied evasively, leaving me guessing. “It’s my first time here.”

He leaned with an arm on the bar, shifting closer. His full-sleeve tattoo came into view. The intricate designs ran from his wrist up into the sleeve of his t-shirt, displaying images of a giant serpent with claws and other fantastic beasts. I wondered if the tattoo had a meaning.

“I’m all alone here,” he said with a small shrug. “No friends, no family. It feels rather lonely at times.”

The confession seemed real, intimate, and disarming.

“I know what you mean.” I released a kindred sigh. “There are so many people in the city, one is never alone. But that doesn’t mean many of us don’t feel lonely. It’s so easy to get lost in the crowd.”

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