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Izzy enters the Pub and lets the door shut quietly behind her. She meanders towards the bar as she surveys the room, occupied by strangers. She thinks she recognizes Shasta, but can't be sure.
Ordering a drink, she checks her phone to note the hour; eyes widening at the amount of misplaced time. Quickly, her fingers move over the keys to set the alarm.
Drink half gone, she sets it on a vacant table with a bench. Jacket wadded into a ball, she curls up on the bench and closes her eyes.
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But I was clinging to her like a homicidal monkey.
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