Date: Thu, 11 Jul 1996 08:12:37 -0400 (EDT)
To: Carolyn L Burke 
From: louern@accent.net
Subject: bar8

Dear Carolyn

it happened in a bar...

A moment she hated and loved simultaneously happened in a bar. A small, seedy disco called "Le Canotier". It adjoined his hotel, the run-down one on the corner of Dorchester and Mackay. You know the one, with the painted sign on it's red brick wall that always reminded her of a label from an outdated bottle of brandy.

He essentially, was a child. To watch him do anything, was to watch a little boy in a moment of fantasy, sitting upright in his bed, steering an imaginary car. It was with this carefree attitude, she carefully absorbed every childlike maneuver he accomplished, which included a short trip he once took in this bar.

It wasn't dark on the street, but it was dark in there. He excused himself and hopped off the barstool. Gazing across to the empty part of the room near the dance floor, he strutted over towards the little boy's room. With each little step he took, one of his hands reached out to his side and snapped a finger. She could hear each one. His reflection in the large dimly lit mirrors caught her eye. Snap, snap, yes, it matched the rhythm of the music playing in that awful place.

knowing he had a large grin on his face, she turned on her barstool as he swung open the door. What was she doing in this rat-hole? Something reminded her of a pamphlet on sexually-transmitted diseases she had once read, and she sipped their beer.

last night's meanderings have brought us here.
together, in a place that probably few will ever truly understand.
it's a very quiet place. it's a peaceful place.

I like it here.

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