Sunday, January 6, 2013

tales of the hotel st crispian, chapter 91: "again"

by horace p sternwall

illustrated by roy dismas, konrad kraus and rhoda penmarq

editorial consultant: Prof. Dan Leo

i was down on my luck - again.

i had been played for a chump - again.

the wind was whipping down broadway - again.

i was headed for maisie's. she might be open.

she might not.

another bum passed me by. i didn't say nothing to him.

he didn't say nothing to me.

he disappeared into the night.

i guess he disappeared into the night - i didn't turn around to watch him.

but i didn't disappear. i was still freezing.

maisie's was open. that was something, anyway.

i opened the door. it creaked, but maisie didn't look up from the counter where she was reading some big fat book, the way she does.

the place was empty.

maisie must have a heart of gold. or a heart of something, because she will let a bum come in and sit down even if he don't buy nothing, as long as the place isn't full, and it never is.

once i asked her, what's that book you are reading, the bible? she didn't look up, she just said "no" and kept on reading.

i went over to the corner and sat down at my favorite table.

i wished i had a smoke.

i looked around. i did a double take.

the place was not as empty as i thought.

there was a girl sitting at the next table.

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