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Facial Communications

Today's Prompt:

Megan places her foot on Paul's foot under the table and gently moves it about. He notices and can tell it's no accident. They lock eyes and silently communicate the same thought to each other:

“We need to leave this party and fuck as soon as possible.”

Nobody else sitting with them at the pub has any idea what's going on. They're all too busy watching Harry open his third birthday present (a shower radio, in case you were wondering).

Megan arches her left eyebrow slightly:

“So how soon can we leave?”

Paul replies with a series of complex eye movements and micro-expressions:

“Harry's my best friends, I think I need to stay for a while yet.”

Megan twitches the right corner of her mouth:

“Sure, as if Harry would wait around if it was your birthday. Don't you remember that time in Greece when he left you completely alone in a bar with no money and no phone to get with that girl who thought it was cute he didn't know how to pronounce tzatziki?”

Paul leans his head slightly to the side:

“I know but Harry's been going through a rough time lately and I think it's important that I be there for him. I promise we'll leave as soon possible. Also he did apologise for that thing in Greece.”

Megan throws her hands up in front of her:

“Fine, we'll do it your way.”

The entire exchange took less than a second.

An hour passes. Harry has had a few pints and reached the point where he's having Deep Meaningful Conversations™ with everyone. Harry and Paul have moved to the far side of the pub and Harry is telling Paul all about how important their friendship is to him. Paul meanwhile is mostly unable to stop noticing the way Megan's legs look in those tights she has on. Megan sees him and points at an imaginary watch on her wrist:

“What's taking you so long?”

Paul gives her a helpless look and shrugs his shoulders:

“You are more than welcome to come over and tell Harry to stuff it. Until such an event occurs, I'm afraid I'm stuck here listening to Harry tell me about how the way his mother raised him stunted his emotional growth.”

Two hours pass. Paul now reckons it has been long enough to make a polite exit and Harry is now so drunk he won't remember anything from this point onwards anyway. He spots Megan walking across the pub and beams a great big smile at her:

“We can go now.”

Megan simply shakes her head as she walks past him.

“Unfortunately not. Suzie's had too many and is puking her guts out in the bathroom so I need to be there with her until an Uber can come pick her up.”

Another hour passes. An Uber has picked up Suzie. Megan comes back into the pub where Paul is waiting for her. He points to the coat rack with his thumb:

“Are we getting out of here now?”

Megan nods vigorously.

“Abs-fucking-lutely.”

Megan and Paul walk towards the coat rack, finally free to pursue their libido's desires.

Unfortunately it is at this moment that a pair of masked men with guns enter the pub. They fire their pistols into the air and tell everyone to get down on the ground.

Megan and Paul get down on the ground and give each other a look:

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”


Another two hours pass.

The building is surrounded by police. Flashes of red and blue lights beam through the windows into the dimly lit pub. One of the robbers is in what appears to be a tense conversation with the hostage negotiator over the phone. Megan and Paul are sat under a table. Paul leans towards Megan and raises both eyebrows:

“Maybe we can just ask them to let us go? They've got plenty of other hostages.”

Megan's expression remains stoic:

“I don't even need to move my face to express how stupid of an idea that is.”


Another three hours pass.

The police storm the pub and manage to apprehend the robbers without anyone getting injured. Megan and Paul give lengthy statements to the police. Eventually, they are let go.

The full moon is out as Megan and Paul meet on the side of the road in front of the pub. And for the first time that night, they speak to each other:

“So do you still wanna --”

“Nah, I'm tired.”

“Yeah, fuck it.”

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