Her.

The first time I saw her she was walking into the bar. I don't normally go into bars alone. I'm not the most outgoing guy and I don't drink; so bars aren't my thing. She was though. So I went in.

Beer and smoke choked the walkway into the cramped dive. Dim lights hid most people in shadows. Guess it made them easier on the eye. Booze would have helped more though. Low class barflies are not my thing. But she wasn't a low class barfly. She was my thing. Dollar long knecks. Dropped a buck on the counter and took a beer. I never even saw the bartender. Could have been the devil himself, wouldn't have noticed. She wore a strapless black dress that rested just at the curve of her cleavage. Only a clingy grey top held her modesty. She pulled at the wrist cuff of her sleaves, a silver watch worn over it. Tapping the watch face with a well-chewed gray-painted nail, She looked lonely. The devil handed me another beer.

Beer tastes bad. Two down and didn't sense a drop, she didn't pour it for me. I didn't want any of the barflies to realize that I didn't belong. I couldn't leave until she did. She could be my perfect moment. Tapped the bar, with a grunt the devil dropped number three in front of me.

I needed to say something. Something witty. Something special. Something we could tell our children when they were old enough. She didn't notice me at the bar. She was looking past me at the door. She had green eyes. Twin emeralds set against a complexion like porcelain. I needed to feed an ache deep within me. She was perfect. A venus inspired by the hint of goth.

I stood up. Then fell back onto the stool. How could I talk to her. Any other girl would have been nothing for me now, an off quip and awkward joke followed by an offer for a drink on me. But her. I needed more. Another beer. Time to think. Sweeping the coal bangs back from her eyes, she glanced towards the door again. My direction. My moment was coming. I felt it beginning to spark. I could have her. Any other time she would be out of my league. But not tonight. The gods had smiled and gave me this one perfect moment.

She glanced again. At me. There was a smile. Or at least a shadow of one playing on her tensed lips. She was nervous too. Words danced about in my head, a thousand lines licked apart and tossed into the ether, none good enough for my moment. One was being built now a word at a time. It was perfect. Almost. Needed that special something else. The devil said, "Another?"

"Sure." I was searing poetry across my psyche the numb would would lessen the scorch marks later. The devil tossed me another one.

I snatched it before the bottle settled, it was about time. She gave me that shadowed smile again, and a giggle. She looked like she was relaxing a little. She had quit glancing at her watch and the door. Now she was noticing me.

Her and the devil and my cold beer. There was no one else in the bar now. Not that was real to me. So when the door opened and the suit walked in, I wasn't ready for it. He brushed past me, almost noticing, but I wasn't on his frequency.

He was tuned like me. Only him, her and the devil. He didn't even have a beer. But he did have my future moment. He was stealing it. I was letting him. Why?

The numb delayed my reaction. When the suit grabbed her arm I didn't react at first. She was beginning to sob. She looked right at me. I could tell she wanted to know why. Why didn't I do something. The devil grabbed another long neck. I quietly said, "No." He shook his had and dropped it back into the ice bin.

I stood for a second time, the suit had already dragged her through the rear door. The pool tables were through that door. I walked with purpose, if not balance towards that door. She had wanted me. She was my moment.

Halfway to the door the devil repeated me word, "No."

I looked towards him, wtf?

"Had your chance man. You hid in a bottle. Now she's his. You know that," then with a snort that cost him all my future repeat business he added, "you had better of fucking known it."

He was an asshole. Not the devil. That much had become certain again to me. He was also right. I had my moment. Did what I always did, waited too long so that it would leave me all alone again. She was with him. She was his.

This wasn't where I belonged. These faceless barflies judged me unworthy. I was out of place. I went in search of home. It was quiet there.

I liked the silence. She had known that, deep down, she had to have seen that in me.

That I always chose the silence.

My moment was to watch the moments, not take them.

I do like the silence.
I do.