Grateful

Grateful The club was called the checkers, painted black and elephant tusk, two middle aged Spaniards stood at the bar talking to a hard faced barmaid. The talk was amicable enough, but had an underlying tension, something about lust and the price of love`s pretence. Two birds dressed, in yellow feathers came down from the loft told the Spaniards how much they loved them. The barmaid asked if I was lonely too. No thanks, I came here for the beer. My answer impressed she shut the club for the night. In the morning I said: I`m sixty today. she cried a little and gave me a milky coffee.