Wing Rider

Short Story

As I arrived

I wasn't exactly early

not exactly late

they were still passing drinks

Green Goblets of laden filled alcohol

I passed

I had the tolerance of a chubby toddler.

I smiled at the host.

Steery Sparn, Farnard

Who gleamed at me from underneath his bifocals

Solid eyes that told stories of 

late nights and heavy book reading

He came to congratulate me on my recent success.