The Jazz Bar
The Jazz Bar
I walked into the jazz bar thinking of nothing in particular. The smell of cologne and perfume hung heavy in the air. It was a strange sort of warmth. I paid no attention to the man on the stage and walked to the bar for a drink.
I asked for nigori sake. I was pleasantly surprised when the bartender served me my favorite brand. I poured myself a glass and drank. The piano played an unfamiliar melody. It wasn't until the man's velvety voice caressed my ears that I turned around.
His body moved to the music as he treated the mic like a lover. Because I hadn't eaten all day, the sake had gone to my head. I left my drink on the bar and walked towards the stage. The deep red lighting drew out my passion.
I didn't even understand the words as he continued to sing. He was singing in another language, but it didn't matter to me. I forgot myself. I walked a little farther and then stopped. I was stuck halfway. My body would not go all the way to the stage.
I had somehow stopped at the right distance to fully take in his music and his presence. I was trapped in his voice. The song and his singing slowly faded into the dimly lit bar. As the applause started, the pianist stood up and walked to the singer. The two embraced and the singer introduced his lover.
I wish I could have said that that was the end, that I came back to reality, but alas, I wanted more. I come back night after night hoping that his voice will soothe my soul. It is smoother than the finest drink and more addictive than the sweetest love.
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