, , ,

She puts her cigarette into the brown

ashtray and turns to the

group of men at her table.

“Sorry about that boys.  Sometimes,

one’s fan want things that

aren’t there’s.”

What did they want, said the men


“Well, one asked for my phone number

and the other asked for my

extensive jewelry collection, now

I can’t be giving that away, now can I?”

And as they all laughed, thousands of

fragments of lights filled their

lungs and flung themselves to

every corner of

the room where scavengers feed off

the red and green and dark tinged yellow.

They become a multitude of nations

and the throngs of men at the

bar become a wall.  Her hair is

in a headdress and her skin is smooth.