Adélaïde and Marguerite

They think we are sisters or college friends on a day out under the Linden trees along the Seine. They think we have left our embattled first husbands at home to fend for themselves and be swamped by toddlers.

They think that when I take her hand across the table at dinner in the café, it is because she has shared some serious personal revelation, and I am commiserating.

They will continue to believe these things until we finish and depart, until we are huddled under the umbrella waiting for a cab, until I lean in and steal a kiss.

Zombie Drabble #423 "Particular"

"Ain't none."

After a snort of exasperation: "Well of course there isn't any here. The place has been picked clean. Looters got whatever they—" Harvey gestured at the now-motionless zombies sprawled across the floor "—didn't break."

Gus shrugged. "Try someplace else?"

"I know a shop a few miles from here. Around the back of a strip mall. Never did very well. They might have gotten missed…"

"Plenty of beer back at—"

"You can drink all the beer you want," Harvey said patiently. "I only drink Glenlivet 25. And I'm going to keep searching until I find some."

"Your call, boss."