posted on Jul, 18 2016 @ 04:26 AM
He fumbled around in his pocket, napkin, wallet, pack of cigarettes, lighter... no keys. To make sure tactile wasn’t off; napkin, wallet, pack of
Still no keys.
Past 2 A.M. patron door locked are they here, on the ground, or up the street?
Someone exiting allowing an entrance... a quick look around not here, not there, not here, and not there. A hasty exit and jaunt across the gravel
hands wanting to probe and access pockets again... stifling that madness, the scene ticked, glitched, and stuttered forward... the wine wined and
whining was not needed a cab and a hotel a hail away.
Across the blacktop and sliding sidewalks box in hand, shuffle shuffle skip skip stepping stepping... the door swung open and latched firm. Swinging
in with a gander not quite a grin. “Looking for keys?” and the universe smiles wide why indeed would you like a slice? No thanks to the beckoning
box, a fellow parroting the same to the right “looking for keys?” yup want a slice? No thanks.
Keys in hand and a box with pizza sliding to and fro, shosh shosh with the strut of solo with two legs and a third if gender matters... a skitch
skitch here and a skitch skitch there here a skit there a skit skit old McPizza box under the arm arm no one no one wants you home.
Distant cackles from drunk and hackles a waft from old bottle and brew, never the less keys in hand nothing down here left to do...
An insert and a twist, pizza box still in right hand lift, the keys out of one slot and shot in another... why does no one want you my pizza brother?
On the seat as later he will eat.
Several shes were cute and flirting a bit while that box of pizza just sits.
Alone and on the way home.
Right hand feeling amorous, left hand feeling glamorous.
Buckled into the night...