This is a short short story. It's almost too short to describe and certainly not worth a dollar all by itself. Which is why it is part of a foursome. Buy one and get the others free. The three others are Twenty Years Ago Today, She Has Long Beautiful Red Hair and Fortunate Child.
They met for drinks at a bar on Gansevoort Street, a trendy place in Manhattan’s meat packing district. Red tapestries covered the walls, red carpets the floor, all the celeb photos on the walls had red horns on their foreheads. The last three digits of the bar’s telephone number was 666, so it seemed appropriate to tell the story.
The waitress served them and departed. David stirred his Scotch rocks with a finger and began talking:
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“As Jerome lay in bed unable to make the plunge into Morpheus’ arms, he felt the whisper of a breath on his face and heard someone ask, ‘What’s the matter, got insomnia again?’
“The voice was deep and luxurious and, above all, strong. Yet the owner of these powerful vocal cords was lost in the darkness. Jerome’s eyes widened large as dinner plates, but he searched in vain for the source of the words. It was as if they came from inside his head, not from outside.”
Bobby listened, but looked bored; he was an artist. He also attended meetings, so he sipped coffee, plain. Bobby’s wife, Rhoda, was transfixed with the tale. She had Slavic roots which explained everything including why she drank pepper Vodka.
Alees, David’s younger sister, had heard the story from a variety of angles over the years and now listened with interest only for the altered state David chose to tell it from. She sipped red wine as she leaned back, away from David, on one elbow in her red vinyl bench seat.
BUY FOUR STORIES NOW for $1.
- Story is included in the Collected Works 2004—only $5.