Today we write about: neon lights.
I've had a bit of an up and down kind of day. About ready to get it over and try again tomorrow.
The neon Open sign in the store window flickers off and on for several seconds before finally giving up the ghost. Sally, standing behind the cash register with one hand in the cash drawer, stares at the sign, rage erupting in her eyes.
I'm surprised it doesn't come back to life out of fear.
"That happen a lot?" I ask with a soft chuckle. Well, that was my intention. It came out more like a cat coughing up a hairball.
"Only every damned night," she says without moving her gaze. "I warned Bill what would happen if we didn't get a new one."
"I guess they're pretty expensive to..." My words whimper into submission as Sally produces a shotgun from underneath the counter. Has that always been there?
"I warned him," she says again, loading a round into the chamber. If she says anything more it's smothered by the shotgun blast and the sound of the sign and window exploding out into the night.