She was on closing shift, and the only customer was a lone trucker nursing his fifth cup of coffee. DG wiped her brow, glad Carter wasn't breathing down her neck. Wringing out a bar towel, she started wiping down the kitchen counters.
As she worked, her thoughts drifted to the fantasy landscapes she filled her sketchbooks with. Little round houses of deep blue, factory towns in fields of heather, vast golden grasslands, a city with a facade of grass green...
The downside to the daydreams was opening her eyes. She'd be back in Kansas.
Nights like this were the worst.