12-31-2013, 07:09 PM
One ticket lay on the bartop. A slender rectangle of elegant paper now the object of rejection. Dane's heart sank a little. He had hoped to find a friend to share the Nutcracker with, a friend such as Nicholas. It seemed it was not to be.
Dane slipped the second ticket inside his jacket, then buttoned it up snug around his chest. Like a hug.
"Christmas in the Arabian Desert,"
Dane said, shaking his head.
There were few faces in the room which Dane really and truly saw. If the concierge returned wearing a hat, Dane would look him over anew. If the bartender wore a sweater vest rather than a waistcoat, Dane would look right through him.
With Nicholas, however, he looked straight into the man's eyes and saw the soul within. It was empty as the lowballs he continually drained.
Dane's disappointment was quickly covered by a smile. With the tips of his fingers, he pushed the invitation toward Nicholas. "Give it to a friend, then, and you can be there in spirit."
Any man worthy of Nicholas' friendship was equally worthy of Dane's; Nicholas was a good man. A rarity in these days.
A sting cut into the edge of his face, and Dane rubbed a corner of his eye until he dug it out. The crystal of a tear, perhaps, or maybe a whiff of ash that'd curled from the stem of the cigar.
The two men grew quiet for some time, then. Each were comfortable with the rest. Piano music curled around their ears as the smoke from Dane's cigar through his fingers. Relaxed, Dane's thoughts stretched toward the far desert, a horizon scorched by the burning sun. "You sound so eager to go along."
A wry smile, "Why follow the Ascendancy when you do not care to?"
He tapped away the ash of his cigar and drew upon its flavor once more.
Edited by Dane Gregory, Jan 2 2014, 08:05 AM.
Dane slipped the second ticket inside his jacket, then buttoned it up snug around his chest. Like a hug.
"Christmas in the Arabian Desert,"
Dane said, shaking his head.
There were few faces in the room which Dane really and truly saw. If the concierge returned wearing a hat, Dane would look him over anew. If the bartender wore a sweater vest rather than a waistcoat, Dane would look right through him.
With Nicholas, however, he looked straight into the man's eyes and saw the soul within. It was empty as the lowballs he continually drained.
Dane's disappointment was quickly covered by a smile. With the tips of his fingers, he pushed the invitation toward Nicholas. "Give it to a friend, then, and you can be there in spirit."
Any man worthy of Nicholas' friendship was equally worthy of Dane's; Nicholas was a good man. A rarity in these days.
A sting cut into the edge of his face, and Dane rubbed a corner of his eye until he dug it out. The crystal of a tear, perhaps, or maybe a whiff of ash that'd curled from the stem of the cigar.
The two men grew quiet for some time, then. Each were comfortable with the rest. Piano music curled around their ears as the smoke from Dane's cigar through his fingers. Relaxed, Dane's thoughts stretched toward the far desert, a horizon scorched by the burning sun. "You sound so eager to go along."
A wry smile, "Why follow the Ascendancy when you do not care to?"
He tapped away the ash of his cigar and drew upon its flavor once more.
Edited by Dane Gregory, Jan 2 2014, 08:05 AM.