Hello friends. So It has been a long time since I last wrote anything. However my OH is working nights and I am listening to Eva Cassidy. I feel this is most likely going to be a small story to get me back into the habit of writing. We shall see where it goes. This is only a short start.
Hayley
Long, dept fingers rolled lazily over the keys of the piano. The smoke rising from the burning candles was near indistinguishable from that of the many lit cigars filling the bar. Light shone dully through the red velvet shades, the room a subtle blend between light and dark, light tables filled with friends, drinking wine and laughing loudly, and dark corners, the occupants of which hidden from view.
She sits, in one of these dark corners, her ash tray full and glass empty. It is the same every week. She arrives at the same time, orders the same drink and smokes exactly the same amount of cigars. Leaving only once the pianist has stopped playing and all other patrons have long since stumbled their way home. She rarely speaks, only ever breaking her silence to request her drink and again to thank the barman as she exits.
Once outside, her back slumps against the brick wall, the repercussions of being caught race to the forefront of her mind. Wrapping her coat securely around her, Minerva McGonagall apparates away from the small Parisian bar and away from the woman who owns her heart.