>>5735103
It opened with a party full of people that were strangers to me. I was standing on the edge of the
room alone, nursing a drink and wondering what I was doing there and as I was about to turn and
ask someone, she walked in. The one that got away. Our eyes locked across the room and we walked to each other,
meeting in the center of the room and we embraced, our bodies coming together in that old
familiar way that can only be described as, “right.” I told her that I had missed her. And she
said, “I know.” We stood there long enough that the people in the room became uncomfortable.
She said that she wanted to talk and suggested that we go for a walk. “I'd love to,” I said, and I
left to go to grab a jacket and my cigarettes although I gave up smoking a few years ago. I
couldn't find my lighter. As I searched for it, other people at the party approached her and before
long, the consensus was that we’d all go out for a stroll in search of a place to eat.
I wasn't hungry, but there was no way I wasn't going to follow her, wherever it might lead. We
all headed out into the cold city night. She was in the front of the group and I lagged a bit
behind so the smoke from my Camel wouldn’t offend anyone. It had rained earlier that day,
apparently, because the ground was wet and in places, there were puddles. I slipped and nearly
fell into an open manhole that exposed a brightly lit shaft with metal rungs running down and out
of sight. Hot air was radiating from the shaft and I could hear the laughter of children from
within. Curiosity tempted me to climb down and investigate, but I was quickly falling behind. I
got back on my feet and brushed myself off and hurried to catch up just in time to see the party
slipping into a restaurant named, The Crow’s Nest.
I walked into the restaurant and everyone was gone. The lobby was a large semi-circle with
dozens of wood-planked gangways radiating outwards and leading up and away to what looked
to be loft-spaces of various sizes. Each space was semi-walled off and designed to look like the
crow’s nests that sat atop the masts of old-time sea vessels. In fact, each loft sat upon a column
that was wrapped with ropes and painted to look like wood.
The male staff was dressed as various pirates and swashbuckling types, the women were attired
as servant wenches. Off to the side was a helm of sorts, complete with a large wooden wheel.
Standing beside it was a large man dressed as a pirate captain, complete with eye-patch, beard
and golden epaulets. I asked where they had gone and he took a swipe at me with a hooked hand and I woke up to find I had fallen out of bed.