The Thin Black Line, by M. Brogan (final of three parts)

The Thin Black Line   Part Three   The boys stared at the TV, which hung from the ceiling in a corner above the bar. It wasn’t on before, but now they watched as a reporter stood in raging water and pointed at tree limbs rushing passed him. He wore a giant blue raincoat and glasses that were fogged up and riddled with rain droplets to the point you couldn’t see his eyes. “He’s going to get swept away,” said Demi like she was seriously afraid for his life. “They said it’s going to rain all night,” mentioned Gabe. “We got water back here!!” yelled Nancy suddenly from the kitchen. “Fuck me running, we got water!” The urgency in her voice made the men rise to their feet and gallantly go back into the kitchen where they started talking sand bags. “I don’t have any fucking sandbags,” said Nancy. This was the old bartender in her coming out, pragmatic and razor sharp. I looked over at Demi as she stood in the middle of the diner, lighting up another cigarette. “You can’t smoke in here,” I said with indignation. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” “Go open up a door…

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