Ask the Bartender

It’s the music, or two whiskies on an empty stomach, or unrequited desire, but he can’t settle.  He returns from the can to find the place emptying rapidly.  He knows how much Dance can’t afford to lose the jacket he’s clutching, and still he’s halfway convinced Dance won’t be back …

Standards

Drin scrubs the heel of his hand across his eyes. “Sweetheart, what are you–why are you up this time of the night– Oh.” Another bad dream, no doubt of that, and some time ago. The kitchen smells of cardamom and cinnamon and mace and nutmeg and a dozen other aromatics. …