An Open Door

As she turned down the lane, she saw the cider house still open – though it was late.

“Why not?” allowed her reconsidering, and after backing up, she then eased to the side and forward into the parking lot.

When she got to the top of the stairs, the doors were locked, after all.

She could see the two gents behind the counter pouring drinks for themselves, glad the day was done.

“Ah, to be them for a moment!” she lamented, wistfully.

Then, she accepted defeat with grace, and headed back to the car.

Just as she was getting in, one of the men invited her to return if she was just getting a couple of bottles.

“Everyone needs a bit of cider on a Frdiay night!” he welcomed repeatedly, warmly.

She accepted his offer joyfully, and they spoke briefly about cider types and flavors.

She inquired and found she could try a small sample tray of on-tap exotics in the future.

Feeling nourished – and possibly saved – she purchased two cans by different brewers, and headed home to her evening.