The panda sat silently at the bar, pawing at a bowl of salted nuts. The only other patron looking on with a cocked head and raised brow. I don’t think he had seen a panda sat in a human environment before. I sighed. I knew what was coming. The panda comes in here about once a month and eats all my bar nuts. He doesn’t seem to like the gawkers. So, it’s a good thing my bar is always empty. Makes clean-up easier and leaves little explaining to be done.
The panda stands up, shoots the patron right in his stupid looking expression. My face scrunches up into a ball, my muscles solidify. I hold my breath every time. The panda walks out. It’s closing time, anyway. Better get cleaning.
Prompt – Facebook post by Sergio Pimenov from a closed writing group (so I can’t link to the post)
Panda eats, shoots and leaves.