It was later in the evening, when she saw him. She'd been down on the dance floor with Monica and Richard, only Richard had departed a few tracks back and she'd decided to hunt him down and bring him back. She spotted Richard near the reserved bar and made her way over to him (suitably backed by another theme song, `
extra, extra, read all about it!'). She could see that he was talking to another of his secondary school friends, though this guy didn't quite seem to blend in. He was wearing some fashionable, though obviously street casual jeans, a kaki cotton jacket, over a black t-shirt, and some non-descript brown moccasin-style shoes. He was the same height as Richard, though slimmer, a slightly lighter, perhaps Lindt milk shade, low-cut black curly hair. Handsome, she thought, as she drew closer, arriving and picking up on the words being spoken.
"I've made it sound too simple, it's not that straight forward. You have to work at it, like my relationship with...oh I don't know, Junior, my son," he looked at Richard seeking acknowledgement.
"Yeah, I know," Richard reassured.
"Yeah, you have to read it, how it's gonna go, you know, left a little, and you kind of manoeuvre a little right. Or, is it gonna fall away a little, so you'd compensate just so, you know. But, when you've gained the experience, you feel you've got the key," he looked up a Richard seemingly surprised with the force of his own revelation, "the
key is yours."
And immediately, she was taken aback, falling backwards into the dream she had never been able to figure out, the key, she thought, does he have the
KEY?
- The End -
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