Sitting in a bar at 11 am felt just on the cusp of wrong. What the heck is one to order? She supposed it felt too late to have a breakfast item. A good thing, since a lone sad DONUT seemed to be the only option in the way of a late morning sweet. And she rather suspected it would sit like a STONE in her belly. Did she want a fancy beer? Surely they had them. Maybe one of those NITRO milk stouts. Wasn’t there advertising once upon a time – Guinness is good for you? Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed that others had come in. A hand slammed down on the table and a man slid into the booth across from her. Another shoved his way next to her, sitting uncomfortably close. With no preamble, the first guy leaned in, snarling. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” Pleased with herself for not jumping, Lacy looked evenly at the man known only to her by description and well, reputation. Her brothers had warned her this could happen. So she was prepared. “Not a very nice INTRO, Mr, um – what do I call you? are you going by Smith these days?”

Georg’ann

Juvenile penguins with a DRIVE
Jump RIGHT off a 50 foot ice cliff
plunging for their first sea swim.
Hard not to anthropomorphize.

On other cliffs, roads wind
precariously, no place to drive
an ARTIC, yet still they go
many tires gripping pavement.

Wordle play gave me an INTRO.
Letting my mind wander
in associations facts don’t support.

Penguins, ice, water,
Arctic cold
No penguins there
Artic is not arctic.
Artic u la tion

Heather