She screams toward him: “There are faces…” points adamantly “…in the lights!”
“Yeah, you mentioned that.”
Her eyes close; dancing increases, impossibly not to the beat. Dan doesn’t even dance, yet his every move here is syncopated.
Drinking his water: drink drink drink drink.
Washing his hands: sink sink sink sink.
“Faces!” She’s maniacal. “In the fucking lights!”
It’s dirty. Loud. The DJ isn’t great; were any of them? Total strangers are bumper cars. She loves it.
Groping herself now: “the FUH-uh-uh-uh KING-ing-ing-ing LIGH-igh-igh-ights!”
The corner exit sign winks in welcoming red.
A plan is forming: think think think think.
Photo credit: David Shankbone
Greatness. I have a Dan exactly in this situation. Will share your piece with him. Nice implications here. Write more.
Yes! Dan needs new friends! This made me laugh and also gave me a sense of deja vu…🤔
Thanks for reading. Your comment made my day!
Love the repetition in this which gives a rhythm to the piece like the music we cannot hear in the photo. Wonder what the idea will be following the exit sign?
Thank you for your kind reply!