My Bloody Valentine
The smoke cut through the dinge. He didn't even notice. The piano player started a new song, that old Sammy Kahn song. In his misery, recognized it and inwardly groaned. Why that one, of all the places in the world, of all the songs? Why that one?
"Trust Mr. Doom und Gloom to find the only place in California that could care less about being smoke free." Josef materialized with two relatively clean looking glasses and a bottle, bringing Mick temporarily out of his stupor.
"You hear that, Josef? "My funny Valentine."
"Don't tell me ... your song?"
Josef watched with raised eyebrow as Mick poured himself two fingers of the scotch, downing a healthy swig.
"At this rate, you'll forget it soon enough."
Mick's rich baritone sang softly, "Don't say a prayer for me, not if you care for me. Stay, funny Valentine, ...
whispering the last word ... stay."
"Alright, old man, time to get you home before the embarassment sets in."
"Why, Josef?"
"Because you're hopelessly maudlin, my friend."
"No. You know what I mean. Why?"
"Who knows the mind of a woman?"
"Not her mind. Her heart. I thought I did."
"She was surprised. I take it she didn't like the gift?"
"She tore into me then stormed out! Said we're over."
"Just a lover's tiff. She'll be back."
Mick raised his eyes to his oldest friend. How many times had Josef been there to console, to commiserate?
"Not this time."
"Maybe its for the best. Time to finally call it done."
"I can't quit her. She's in my blood."
Josef smirks, catches Mick's eye and both smile at the pun. He shrugs.
They both know how volatile Coraline can be.
"Some day, my friend, you'll find a way to break free."
"Or kill her."
"That, too."
