Lines Off My Mind’s Shelf
He cut off Hunter, talking about something as we sat around the bar table—
“Will you stop that?” he said to me, smiling.
I was bopping my head as I responded to a text message on my phone. Without looking up at him, I grinned, stood up and continued dancing, spinning around to the music of the room until I pressed send. He laughed and got up too.
“Now, you’re both embarrassing me,” Hunter said.
“You have to come join us,” I said.
He stood up and we all danced solo in the empty room of the Jazz club. We were the only guests besides the man fixing the stage in the corner. The waitresses behind the bar laughed casually at our sparse entertainment. The only light in the room streamed through the front door, white, propped open to remind us of the absurdity that was us hiding in the dark during such beautiful daylight. It was 4:30pm on a Sunday, and it was happy hour.