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LAce Posted Monday, May 31st, 2004
Bar Scene
Kim Chinquee

He offered me cashews. The night before, I'd seen him performing, spreading his fingers on his keyboard. I looked at the Band-Aid glowing from his elbow. I asked him what he wanted.

"Sex," he said.

"I'm not a prostitute," I said.

"Tell me what to give you."

I reached for a cashew, putting my fingers in his basket. "I want to know what creates that music."

He looked at me. He took my drink of water. The cashew was salty.

Outside was a blizzard. Inside everything was banging.

Comments [post a comment]

Posted by Christos Tsitsaros on Tuesday, June 1st, 2004 at 12:24 AM
This is an excellent story. It's like as if every word is important and relevant.



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