Two friends sitting in a booth, one of them has a stout and the other a stout with a whiskey chaser. This town is too small for them and they are planning a departure for bigger cities, southern suns. In how many cities, with how many friends have they yearned for nothing more than more that is offered?

—I’m ready to go! I need something new! My stay has run its course, all I’m doing is retracing my steps.

—Yes, yes…

—It’s time to go, move on. And they know it, they’re sick of me…I can sense it, I’m not welcome anywhere anymore…What are you still doing here—they say. Go on! Get out!

—Ho! Ho!

—And I’m going, they can have their town…

The stouts slowly work their way down the mugs as the talk opens, the voices animate. There is so much to say, so much to dream and these fellows know no limits. They want so much they seem to just want to want. Warmer weather, plentiful culture, lovelier ladies, and—More stout, please!

The waitress, absentmindedly doing a couple chores, nods and takes note…

—Heeey, that waitress is not bad.

—No, no, she is lovely.

—And she seems…to be noticing us.

—Well, well, huh-huh, come on, why wouldn’t she?

—Maybe we should ask her, you know…to join us?…

—Hey, now!

Aaah…But if only things were the way they were. All towns have their day and this one has certainly passed. Back then the music was so good, the scene was happening, the people were more real, and the women…Well they must have been better too.

—Yes, yes, I’ve been here too long too. I felt that when I came back. The same old thing…So I’m going down South in a few months. I already have the apartment lined up, just need to save a little more, and then I’ll go…Too much winter here…

—Yeah, well, good luck…I don’t think I’ll even last that long.

It is the eternal southern dream…The waitress sweeps by and after taking a good look, the whiskey shot is downed in a gulp followed by a squint and an…Aaah. There will be a day when these guys will remember this booth, this place in this world. By the waitress, fresh stouts are delivered—Want anything more?

Next Chapter: The Dim Lights of Blues