©2021
Tell me’, she said, ‘Do you play?’
Startled and confused he was momentarily at a loss for words. Then he understood what she was asking him.
‘No, actually I don’t. I’m delivering it for a – let’s say, a job…..just stopped in for some courage…’
‘I apologize for intruding but as I was sitting over there I noticed the violin case against the bar – and since I have a passion for the instrument I thought I’d ask.’
‘I see’, he said in a highly sophisticated voice……with a British accent yet.
‘So, it is a violin, obviously’, she said, while asking with eyebrows raised.
‘I mean, it isn’t just, like, your lunch box, or something.’
He turned a cool gaze towards her, shifted around on the barstool, martini glass held delicately in long slender fingers
‘Well’, he replied, his slate black eyes sparking at her, impertinence. ‘See, it’s not like it’s any of your business now is it – really?’
She kinda shyly stuttered then…..which melted a bit of his harder heart.
Raising her eyes to his she said, sheepishly, ‘It’s really just that you’re so damnedly good-looking – well, it was enough of a reason for me to come over and ask.’
The whisper of a smile tweaked the corners of his sensuous mouth. He swung one crossed leg a little back and forth, looked off into the distance, and back to her.
‘No – it’s not a violin in fact…..it’s a Tommy.’
‘A what?’, she asked
‘A Tommy – a Tommy gun – you know – like Al Capone. A machine gun.’
‘You’re shitting me’, she said, shock rippling across her face.
‘Nope’, he said. ‘For real.’
She stepped back, looked him up and down, and then with a wickedly mischievous smile, leaned a little closer and said, ‘So – do you play?’
© 2015 michael moore
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tell me’, he said, ‘Do you play?’
Startled and confused she was momentarily at a loss for words. Then she understood what he was asking him.
‘No, actually I don’t. I’m delivering it for a – let’s say, a job…..just stopped in for some courage…’
‘I apologize for intruding but as I was sitting over there I noticed the violin case against the bar – and since I have a passion for the instrument I thought I’d ask.’
‘I see’, she said in a highly sophisticated voice……with a British accent yet.
‘So, it is a violin, obviously’, he said, while asking with eyebrows raised.
‘I mean, it isn’t just, like, your lunch box, or something.’
She turned a cool gaze towards him, shifted around on the barstool, martini glass held delicately in long slender fingers whose tips were finished with a Chinese red lacquer polish.
‘Well’, she replied, her agate eyes sparking at him, his impertinence. ‘See, it’s not like it’s any of your business now is it – really?’
He kinda shyly stuttered then…..which melted a bit of her harder heart.
Raising his eyes to hers he said, sheepishly, ‘It’s really just that you’re so damnedly beautiful – well, it was enough of a reason for me to come over and ask.’
The whisper of a smile tweaked the corners of her sensuous mouth. She swung one crossed leg a little back and forth, looked off into the distance, and back to him.
‘No – it’s not a violin in fact…..it’s a Tommy.’
‘A what?’, he asked
‘A Tommy – a Tommy gun – you know – like Al Capone. A machine gun.’
‘You’re shitting me’, he said, shock rippling across his face.
‘Nope’, she said. ‘For real.’
He stepped back, looked her up and down, and then with a wickedly mischievous smile, leaned a little closer and said, ‘So – do you play?’
© 2015 michael moore