The Grey-Eyed Girl 2

 

     "Samson? Hi- sorry I'm late, did I miss your reading?" she said

     "Oh, yeah, who are you?" he said his bushy eyebrows raised, he was expecting Chanteuse_23 to be some hideous thing that hadn’t seen the light of day for years, but here stood a slim girl in a navy-blue dress, curly some would say frizzy light-coffee colored hair pulled back and poorly tamed into a clasp. She had flat shoes and ribbed tights and a dark gray pea-coat. A green handbag slung over her shoulder.

      Samson glared at her and said." I was expected someone well you know… anyway I can give you a private reading later. You’re much different than I thought.”

       "SHHHH!" a white head whipped around from the seat in front off them. "Do you mind?" he was holding a Pomeranian and had pinkish red eyes.

       "SHH! yourself ya rat!" Samson took an open-hand swing at the back of his head.  The young albino man faded his head back just in time and glared at Samson. He got up with the dog and walked toward an empty seat. The grey-eyed girl looked at the pale young man unsettled; out of the corner of his eye he did the same.

         "Lets get out of here these people can't write anyways. I know a place we can play pool and I can read you my poems. You know you got nice eyes."

        They went to a dim bar; empty except for the bartender cleaning glasses with a rag.   The green felt of the pool table like an oasis, humming green under a hanging light. Samson ordered a rum and coke and she got a bottle of beer.

     "That’s not so lady-like drinking from a bottle like that."

      ‘There are a lot of things not so lady-like about me." She said coyly smiling as she rubbed the cube of chalk on the tip of the pool cue, and blew it off in a blue cloud.   She wanted to get through with this before he tried to recite any of his poetry.  She thrust the pool stick and broke; she sunk the two and three, then buried the six and purposely missed the one.

       "Your pretty good for a girl." he said as he took aim at the twelve and he caught her raising the brown bottle to her lips suggestively for a long drink.  He missed; it was time. She grabbed the pool cue from him violently.   "You have grey rain clouds in your eyes girl."

        “I prefer to think storm clouds."

        "Why is there a storm coming."

"You'll see." she said and sank the eight ball. Turned and re-racked the stick and walked to a door marked exit motioning for him to follow her.