In between worlds
The flames from the kitchen fireplaces roared, and the dim lights flickered. Music was making people a little too loudly, or maybe that was the drinks. I've chosen not to drink this trip, sticking to coffee and water, yet now I feel like I'm stranded here by the food table, not knowing how to break in to the little pockets of conversation. I ask the server for a cup of coffee, even though it's 7:30 pm.
We chat as he brings it over to me, and I ask him how he is doing.
"I'm in a good place," he says.
"What makes the place good?" I ask back.
"Honestly?" he asks.
"If you'd like," I offer.
"I'm launching my business this weekend, in a couple days, and it's going to be a global brand. I've been so anxious about it. But lately I'm just settling and and ready for it."
"That's amazing," I say.
I wanted to ask more but he was pulled away like pork
The server has helped make sure the food table is stocked with a grazeable selection of elevated southern cuisine — pulled pork, fried green tomatoes. And I'…
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