After midnight on Broadway by Yaari

The night was beautiful – one of those warm, soft and deep dark velvet skies – a blanket of black charcoal, dotted with bright spots of tiny white lights shooting silver sparks off their sides – the kind of night that begs for your gaze as you drink in every drop.  Casting caution to the wind, I ignored my need for sleep.  Rushing through my brain was the thought that tomorrow would be a day of drooping eyelids and muscles that groaned with every move.  My mind quickly shoved that thought into the tiny sucking hole created for things to be denied and suppressed.

My right foot moved off the accelerator toward the brake; my right hand reluctantly eased out and joined my left on the steering wheel as I slowed my sloppily loved blue Honda Civic and let it crawl across the driveway hump of the restaurant. I pulled into the parking lot.  My eyes darted around and found the only available parking space – a quiet spot outlined by two fading white lines waiting in the comfortable shadow of a naked city tree.  As I reached my right hand to pull up the brake, a rush of breath escaped as my voice stirred the calm.

Boy, I’m really hungry now dat we’re her ……uuuummmmm…..

My eyes quickly took in the many cars in the parking lot.  There would be a line of colorfully dressed party goers in the lobby.

I’m in the mood for someting salty….

My left hand moved.

Grits?  Never really had it before….

toward the door handle as my body prepared to unfold into a  long awaited stretch and I anticipated a slow leisurely late night early morning breakfast.  It stirred memories of comfort.


the sound of her voice and the slam of the passenger door brought my awareness back to the warmth of the night and the beautiful woman in my company.  Like the night, she was a tall, elegant human sculpture of warm caramel gong on toffee, covered from neck to toe in rich, ink black sweater and pants.


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