Buttons

There was a girl called Buttons, because her eyes were buttons. She liked the name, and usually called herself by it as well. She also liked her eyes, because they let her see.

She directed her eyes at the mug of beer in her hands. It was overflowing, just like the girl who had bought it for her. The girl was laying on the tavern table, chatting away like a drunk even though she hadn't even finished her first drink. The curiosity bubbled from her like an erupting volcano, spewing over the table and benches and Buttons's legs.

"They really call you buttons?"

"Yes."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not usually."

"It lacks imagination, don't you think? I mean, no offense, but the buttons are already obvious."

"If they're meeting me, they don't need to imagine me, they can just look at me."

"Oh I never thought about that. Hey, are you going to drink?"

"Um. No, I can't really handle drinks this strong."

"Oh sorry. Don't like it?"

"I don't mind the taste, I just can't keep it down."

"Does that upset you?"

"Nope."

"Does anything upset you?"

"Of course."

"Like what? Personally, I can't stand when people interrupt me. It's like they don't even care what I'm saying."

"That's definitely not fun."

"You can say that again. Hey, when do you think my brother will show up?"

"I don't know, I've never met him."

"Good point. I'm guessing two more minutes. How long do you think he'll take?"

"I don't know."

"Just guess."

"One minute?"

"Awesome. We'll see."

The two girls watched the clock for two hours. No brothers showed up.

No brothers showed up until three weeks later.

When one did, he was the exact opposite of what Buttons expected.

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