Marnie disappeared slowly. So slowly, I didn’t notice her going. Like any good barkeep, she listened – absorbing tales of sorrow, protestations of innocence, and howls of outrage. Listened and never commented – just faded until she vanished into the mahogany bar top, the racked bottles, and nicotine-yellowed walls.
There was theatre to it. She bent emotion around her until she became invisible. Theatre and magic make us see stuff that’s not there. And not see what is. I miss Marnie.
Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here