The Bar

I am standing behind a bar.  I cannot see myself.  I can’t tell exactly what I’m doing, but I might be dancing or even posing for pictures.   I am swaying my hips seductively, moving and pausing occasionally   Directly in front of me, seated at the bar, is a shadow man wearing a suit and a hat.  I cannot make out his features or the color of his suit.  I cannot see his face.  He is an outline, mostly colored white, sitting quietly with his head tilted down as if he’s staring at the bar.  His presence is strong.  I do not feel frightened by him.  Only curious.

A woman slides into the seat next to the man.  It positions her directly in front of me.  She has some kind of cloth covering her head, like a hijab.  It is multi colored, and I can only see her face. She is watching me, emotionless.

I am staring at her skin.  I have never seen anything like it.  It is as if a layer of soft, young skin is almost infused over old skin, like a veil that reveals both the old and young layer.  Her eyes are staring at me, and I am fixated on her skin.  Suddenly, I realize she is someone I know.  She is a woman from my past who did not have good intent with me.  She speaks to me with her mind, her lips pressed tightly together.

“Well, I see you made good use of the ass popping I taught you.”  She says through her eyes.

I am instantly infuriated.  How dare she take credit for my moves, like I didn’t know how to pop my ass before she met me.  Hmmmpphhh

She stands up with a haughty smile spread across her face.  I want to punch her square in the nose.  Conceited bitch.

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