Post by John Gone on May 19, 2008 4:10:42 GMT -5
A match strikes against the side of the box. John Gone raises it to the tip of the cigarette dangling from his mouth and inhales. He drops the match to the floor and crushes it with his boot heel. Somewhere in the night club a piano begins to play. It’s almost drowned out at first by the sounds of talking and drinks clanging together, but soon gets louder. John’s eyes, shadowed by the brim of his hat, trace around the room before stopping on the girl at the piano. The faintest of smiles flashes across his face and is gone. Even if anybody was looking, they wouldn’t have noticed. He stares at her through the wisps of smoke rising from his cigarette. She starts to speak.
The sun, whose rays are all ablaze with ever-living glory, does not deny his majesty – he scorns to tell a story. He exhales the smoke through his nose in a long, quiet sigh. She glances around the room. They make eye contact for an instance. She smiles and looks down before leaning back into the microphone on the piano. He don’t exclaim, “I blush for shame, so kindly be indulgent.” But fierce and bold, in fiery gold, he glories all effulgent. He takes one long drag off of his cigarette and puts it out on the wall behind him. I mean to rule the earth, as he the sky – We really know our worth…the sun and I.
He pushes himself away from the wall. His eyes transfix on the girl at the piano. He moves purposefully between the tables across the room. Observe his flame, that placid dame, the moon’s celestial highness… He reaches into his coat and pulls out another cigarette. There’s not a trace upon her face of diffidence or shyness. He spots an empty, un-bussed table. He discreetly takes one of the knives. She borrows light, that, through the night, mankind may all acclaim her. And truth to tell, she lights up well…so I for one don’t blame her.
He emerges from the tables. He passes by the piano, their eyes locked on each other until he passes. He walks to the wall behind the piano and leans against it. Ah, pray, make no mistake…we are not shy… He takes a nearby candle and lights his cigarette. She turns to face him, saying her last line as they hold eye contact. We’re very wide awake…the moon and I.
There’s a smattering of applause. She turns on her piano bench to face John. She flashes him a smile. He returns it. I’ve seen you before. He lets out a small, quiet laugh. I’ve been stalking you so I can murder you. Her eyes go wide. He laughs again. I’m kidding. Oh. Heh. You had me scared for a second. She reaches up and takes his cigarette, putting it to her lips. He exhales the smoke. Naaaah. No need to get scared quite yet. She gives him a wry half smile around the cigarette.
He reaches on the tray of a passing waiter and grabs a roll. He takes the knife he took and cuts into it. So when’s your next set? He sets the roll and knife on the table next to him and pulls out another cigarette. She curls her mouth into another smile, looking up at him through the smoke. Why? She takes a drag off of hers and exhales the smoke. He looks for a match in vain. He leans in, their faces inches from each other. He touches the tip of his cigarette to hers and inhales. He takes it out of his mouth. Just curious. He leans back against the wall.
Speaking of which… She tips her ashes into an empty glass on the piano top. I couldn’t help but notice the accent. You here on business? He exhales. Could say that. She leans back into the piano, tilting her head. Well, now, that sounds promising. So what is it that our handsome stranger does? He looks down, then out into the sea of tables. His smile is unsettling, playful; feigning embarrassment. Aaaah. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’ll keep that in mind. So tell me, boy. She stretches out her leg, tapping his shin with her bare foot. He looks down at her foot, tracing with his eyes up her leg and back up to her face. He lets out a laugh while he exhales smoke through his nose. I’m a, uh…professional wrestler.
She raises an eyebrow. Not the job I’d have thought you’d have. You anybody I’d have heard of? He shakes his head. That’s a shame. Here I thought I was talking to someone famous for a second. He smirks. Sorry to disappoint. No, I haven’t made it big quite yet. But, uh…for some reason I’m not quite compelled to talk about rolling around with other grown men at the moment. She laughs. He smiles and watches. That’s an interesting take on your job. I like to keep perspective. She glances over at the clock on the wall behind her. She turns back to John, biting her lower lip just a little. Two hours. Hm? He waves off a waiter offering drinks. You asked when my next set is. It’s in two hours. He looks down at his watch. That’s quite a bit of time. She smiles. Just enough.
The hall backstage is dimly lit. Few doors dot the drearily colored walls. John Gone and the piano player pass them by as they walk down the hall. John cuts off a piece of bread and offers it to her. She leans down and bites it out of his hand. She turns and starts walking backwards. So, you sticking around for my next set? He swallows his bite of roll. We’ll see.
She stops, putting a hand on John’s chest to stop him as well. She leans against a door. This one’s me. Going to invite me in? Would you stay out in the hall if I didn’t? He walks over and leans on the wall next to her. Depends on the company. She smiles and grabs him by the tie. I think the company’s just a little bit better in here. She opens the door behind her and pulls him in.
So this is my fabulous dressing room. It’s a minimal room, little more than a mirror desk and a chair with a few suitcases thrown in the corner. John takes a quick look around. Nice. Jack Nance would be proud.She unties her hair and lets it fall around her shoulders and neck. Well, are you going to come in? He smirks. Yeah. Just a second. He walks back to the door. He takes the knife out of the roll and throws the roll into a trashcan near the door. His smirk fades. He walks back in, his face blank and flush. You can get scared now. What? He slams the door behind himself.
The sun, whose rays are all ablaze with ever-living glory, does not deny his majesty – he scorns to tell a story. He exhales the smoke through his nose in a long, quiet sigh. She glances around the room. They make eye contact for an instance. She smiles and looks down before leaning back into the microphone on the piano. He don’t exclaim, “I blush for shame, so kindly be indulgent.” But fierce and bold, in fiery gold, he glories all effulgent. He takes one long drag off of his cigarette and puts it out on the wall behind him. I mean to rule the earth, as he the sky – We really know our worth…the sun and I.
He pushes himself away from the wall. His eyes transfix on the girl at the piano. He moves purposefully between the tables across the room. Observe his flame, that placid dame, the moon’s celestial highness… He reaches into his coat and pulls out another cigarette. There’s not a trace upon her face of diffidence or shyness. He spots an empty, un-bussed table. He discreetly takes one of the knives. She borrows light, that, through the night, mankind may all acclaim her. And truth to tell, she lights up well…so I for one don’t blame her.
He emerges from the tables. He passes by the piano, their eyes locked on each other until he passes. He walks to the wall behind the piano and leans against it. Ah, pray, make no mistake…we are not shy… He takes a nearby candle and lights his cigarette. She turns to face him, saying her last line as they hold eye contact. We’re very wide awake…the moon and I.
There’s a smattering of applause. She turns on her piano bench to face John. She flashes him a smile. He returns it. I’ve seen you before. He lets out a small, quiet laugh. I’ve been stalking you so I can murder you. Her eyes go wide. He laughs again. I’m kidding. Oh. Heh. You had me scared for a second. She reaches up and takes his cigarette, putting it to her lips. He exhales the smoke. Naaaah. No need to get scared quite yet. She gives him a wry half smile around the cigarette.
He reaches on the tray of a passing waiter and grabs a roll. He takes the knife he took and cuts into it. So when’s your next set? He sets the roll and knife on the table next to him and pulls out another cigarette. She curls her mouth into another smile, looking up at him through the smoke. Why? She takes a drag off of hers and exhales the smoke. He looks for a match in vain. He leans in, their faces inches from each other. He touches the tip of his cigarette to hers and inhales. He takes it out of his mouth. Just curious. He leans back against the wall.
Speaking of which… She tips her ashes into an empty glass on the piano top. I couldn’t help but notice the accent. You here on business? He exhales. Could say that. She leans back into the piano, tilting her head. Well, now, that sounds promising. So what is it that our handsome stranger does? He looks down, then out into the sea of tables. His smile is unsettling, playful; feigning embarrassment. Aaaah. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’ll keep that in mind. So tell me, boy. She stretches out her leg, tapping his shin with her bare foot. He looks down at her foot, tracing with his eyes up her leg and back up to her face. He lets out a laugh while he exhales smoke through his nose. I’m a, uh…professional wrestler.
She raises an eyebrow. Not the job I’d have thought you’d have. You anybody I’d have heard of? He shakes his head. That’s a shame. Here I thought I was talking to someone famous for a second. He smirks. Sorry to disappoint. No, I haven’t made it big quite yet. But, uh…for some reason I’m not quite compelled to talk about rolling around with other grown men at the moment. She laughs. He smiles and watches. That’s an interesting take on your job. I like to keep perspective. She glances over at the clock on the wall behind her. She turns back to John, biting her lower lip just a little. Two hours. Hm? He waves off a waiter offering drinks. You asked when my next set is. It’s in two hours. He looks down at his watch. That’s quite a bit of time. She smiles. Just enough.
* * *
The hall backstage is dimly lit. Few doors dot the drearily colored walls. John Gone and the piano player pass them by as they walk down the hall. John cuts off a piece of bread and offers it to her. She leans down and bites it out of his hand. She turns and starts walking backwards. So, you sticking around for my next set? He swallows his bite of roll. We’ll see.
She stops, putting a hand on John’s chest to stop him as well. She leans against a door. This one’s me. Going to invite me in? Would you stay out in the hall if I didn’t? He walks over and leans on the wall next to her. Depends on the company. She smiles and grabs him by the tie. I think the company’s just a little bit better in here. She opens the door behind her and pulls him in.
So this is my fabulous dressing room. It’s a minimal room, little more than a mirror desk and a chair with a few suitcases thrown in the corner. John takes a quick look around. Nice. Jack Nance would be proud.She unties her hair and lets it fall around her shoulders and neck. Well, are you going to come in? He smirks. Yeah. Just a second. He walks back to the door. He takes the knife out of the roll and throws the roll into a trashcan near the door. His smirk fades. He walks back in, his face blank and flush. You can get scared now. What? He slams the door behind himself.
