The Woman At The Cafe, The Fist View

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After a long day. A life. I enter the night. The afterlife. Racing yellow lights. Bustling and hustling crowds. Cars swinging by at 100kmph. I guess that's the 'Rich dad's Drunk Brat Son'. I'm at a mellow 50Kmph. The day's sucked my juices out. I want to get my engines rolling. Plus after a break up and a year without any action or physically intimate episodes, I guess the only chilling rush against my skin would be that of a frothy cool Beer mug, the golden fuel. I reach one of these places I used to hit with a few fun seeking creatures of the night.

So I reach the place. Night life at full throttle. Full of people who's faces are hard to decipher in the smoke from the cigarettes and hookahs. The urban mist. Wasting away life in ash and mirth. But I think this is how one cuts loose. Lets go off the earthly chains of misery. I can hear Bob Marley, " Don't worry about a thing, cause every little thing, is gonna be alright ". It's as if Bob Marley can still read the minds of these people who pretend to be carefree but are filled with fears.

I reach the dim lit bar, I order for a Beer. And as I turn look around for a view full of faces which
fail to attract, My eyes are struck by the sight of a lady.I guess this is what Roy Orbison meant when he strung Pretty woman . I turn around. My beer slides across the bar, over the condensed wet surface, right into my hand. Finally peace. No, That's not it. I'm not at peace. I need something, something more. And as I spent the next 10 seconds in quick contemplation I realized what I wanted. The one I just thought of as Roy's Pretty Woman.

To be continued..





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