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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1293018-Downtown-Rough-Draft-Opening
by Manny
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Other · #1293018
A story in progress. Not sure how to describe it yet.
  It was around 3 o'clock when I got to work, and Sonny Rollins' Decision greeted me at the door. I like Dezi's, there's something about it. Inside, any sense of time or reality is lost under the dim lights, immersed in music, cigarette smoke casting spirits in the air around you. Slightly scratched vinyl does something to your thoughts, nothing seems as important or impending as it was; or maybe the music just makes you more willing to submit to the flow of time.
  "Hey brother, how you doin?" It was Dezi, and as usual every article of clothing he had on was in perfect harmony with the next: a deep purple suit, pale violet button up under it and black leather shoes polished like mirrors.
"You wanna have a drink before we open?," he said breaking the seal of a brand new bottle of 151. As he sat on a barstool, his pants rose enough to reveal socks of the same pale violet as his shirt. I grabbed two glasses and took a seat next to his.
"You've been lookin' a little pale lately. Everything alright?," he said pouring our drinks.
I took my glass and drank it down before pausing a moment.
"Insomnia, I just haven't been getting much sleep I guess." As I said this Doral was closing the door. Doral was a 6'5", former Crip from Lincoln Knolls, who acted as doorman and bouncer to the bar, aside from this he was a pretty mellow guy. For whatever reason, Doral was a little slow. Dezi had taken him in six years ago, when no one else would, and had his loyalty from that moment on. He nodded walking toward us in a light blue button up and navy pants. I grabbed another glass and poured him a drink, as he sat next to me.
"Thanks man. Another Monday, huh fellas?," he said taking a sip of rum.
"Yeah," said Dezi rubbing his eyes, "probably not too much action tonight."
                           
The rest of the day was spent with Ana on my mind. The anniversary of her death was only a few weeks away. The closer it got the stronger and more vivid my memories became, and so did the pain of knowing she'd never come back.
Only a few regulars stopped in, and before I knew it, it was closing time. I marked down the profits and locked the money drawer, as Doral went about cleaning up; I'd offer to help, but he'd just refuse with a smile as usual, so we nodded to each other and I was on my way.
Outside the summer breeze felt liquid cool on my face, and the smell of rain rose to greet me. I had'nt even noticed it raining, I thought, when a sharp pain followed by numbness swept over my skull. For a moment, white light burned in my eyes and when it passed I noticed that I was falling. Laying there I felt nothing but the heat of the blood running down my neck. I almost lost consciousness when I heard the sound of bones being broken followed by a dry scream. Were they my bones? I couldn't be sure.
My world spun and the rain was now hitting my face, as a large man stood over me. "You alright G?," it was Doral. I tried to respond but my speech was garbled; he brought me to my feet and carried me to his car.
"Wanna go to the hospital?", he asked. "You might have a concussion."
"What..what the fuck happened?" feeling the back of my head and pulling back bloody fingers.
"That punk tried to mug you" he said pointing out to where I'd been laying. " I broke his arm. . . and took his gun" holding up a basic black .45.
"So, you wanna go to the hospital?"
© Copyright 2007 Manny (mannyanalogue at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1293018-Downtown-Rough-Draft-Opening