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fallen1

Canada

Member Since 2003

Followers 65 Following 105

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Monday Apr 30, 2007

Apr 30, 2007
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I met her in a dying club, it's last gasp for atmosphere a stage with burnt out bulbs with starlets to match. I found the place quite by accident, ducking into the doorway to avoid a persistent process server. Previous trouble worthy of a story in it's own, but I'll spare you here. The place smelled of stale cigarettes, and even staler dreams.

I wanted out, but knew what faced me back on the street, so with the lure of the unknown, I headed down the warn carpeted stairs. Through the over elaborate archway, I headed to the bar like a hound on a hair. I needed a drink. Gin. Guys like me have a reputation and composure to keep, gin will smooth the edges back to where they belong. I sit at the dubiously clean bar and place my order with the equally dubious barkeep. I wait for my drink before turning to take in the crowd, ahhh Tanqueray I missed you! I nod to the keeper and swivel to view the crowd.

Looking around I take in a motley crew of down on their luckers mingling with cheeseball frat boys. A curious cocktail indeed! What could possibly catch the attention of stuffy upper crust Andrews and mix them with burnt out drunks. It certainly couldn't be the watered down drinks, or the tootsie rubbing cigarette girls! On cue with my pondering the lights dim, well sorta, more like sputter out as a spotlight opens up on the decaying smoke stained velvet curtains.

The curtains part, and out steps an angel to make even the devil weep. All of a sudden, nirvana! She prowls onto the stage with a grace only the positive possess. This is her kingdom, these her loyal servants, and me wondering where to post my resume. This ravishing beauty is 3 apples tall, 2 of which belong to those shapely stems. Now I have seen some leggy dames in my time, but this vision, left me wondering where she kept her organs.

I was gawking at this inspiration for stocking's so hard, that I barely noticed the sing song of the lovely bird. Like a sirens call, every one in the room was fixed on this Angel of the stage. She wooed us all into catatonia, drinks ignored, cigarettes left to smoke themselves. She has beauty to stun, legs to stagger and a voice to command everything into submission. The only movement besides her sway to those silky words, was the lazy smoke of the cigarettes, loath to travel up and out of the ceiling vents. She had flowers in her hair, and even though they were not long cut, they weren't as fresh as that milky skin. There was a glow about her which would have made her sparkle and shine without the need of the spotlight. Truly heaven was missing one of it's foremost residents.

Just like that, she was gracefully making her way from the stage.... I snapped out of my trance by the furious clapping and whistling of the blue bloods, rummies, hell even the cigarette girls. Just like that I was one of the converted. Willing to dedicate the rest of my life to... I don't even know her name... I glanced over the walls in search of a post trumpeting her and saw there were none. I turned to the barkeep, who was using his drool filled bar-towel to scrub a smudge from an ancient beer glass. I asked the name of the stemmy dame leaving the stage, and after the second inquiry pulled his dull glazed eye's away and regarded me with empty eye's.


A story I have been working on for a little while.
hellkitten:
I read this last night and ended up having wonderful dreams in black and white +o)
May 1, 2007

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