Drink

“Being drafted into a drink is a drag,” she said.  “The drama of the undrunk drink drowned in dreams is droller than the dram drank in dread.”

“Drat,” he drawled, “If I had my druthers, I’d want the drape and drift of your dress against my dresser drawers.”

She drained the dregs of her draught.  “Can I drive you home?”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s