Release - Flash Fiction Version

I stare as Adam’s finger slides across the mouth of my wet, empty glass.  I contemplate his hands that make mine look like a child’s in comparison.  That is, of course, until I catch glimpse of something else: there’s a finger waving disapprovingly at me, and it’s the larger of two hands on my wristwatch.  Perhaps that’s my conscience scolding me.  I had played coy with Adam for some time now.  I look back and the glass is filled again, and I drink of it.  My watch, though still wrapped around my wrist it may be, disappears beneath the sleeve of my shirt.  Adam tells me the music in the club will soon play at deafening levels.  It doesn’t matter which of the 3 floors you’re on, it’s all metal music.  They call it the “Krazy House.”  A great place to get the wax knocked out of your ears.  That should be their tagline.