by Jaz Johnson
Saphora huffed as she sat back down in the chair at the kitchen table. Fran had already finished her glass, and had gotten up to pour herself another one. Saphora watched, tilting her neck to the side.
“Another one?”
“Mhm,” Fran hummed. Saphora frowned. She would ask her what was wrong, but she knew better than to question the obvious. Especially to a drunk Fran. So she let her have her second glass of wine. And her third, as she tried to ask her more questions about the dragon – about Arol.
But with Fran a glass away from falling asleep on the table, she was hardly any help in answering any of Saphora’s questions. And if she were able to, she would have snuck out to the zoo to see Arol. But with Fran drunk, she felt obligated to stay home and take care of her while she was indisposed. She always had. She made sure she went the whole night safe and sound. Even though Fran just usually crashed in a heap on her bed for the entire night, Saphora liked to make sure herself. And that usually meant not getting much sleep.
But at least this time when Fran’s head fell to the kitchen table, she was able to move her to her bed without much effort. Using her nearly mastered concentration, Saphora was able to move Fran to her room without disturbing her. It was the easiest drunken night Saphora had ever had with Fran. But it was one of the most restless nights she’d ever had with herself.