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He looked around. Was he imagining beauty at its finest or could this creature exist? Opening his bill fold he tossed several bills without looking. What was the need when he dared not lose this trophy. The music slowly faded as he gently slipped between the lithe bodies surrounding him. Without warning a very young woman with midnight locks and eyes turned and spilled her drink all over his blazer. She was likely too young he guessed to be drinking the whisky sour which he now wore. He could hear her appologies as she needlessly patted at the fine linen. The damage done, he pushed out with his mind causing the young woman to swoon.
Looking across the bar caused his heart to panic and a cold sweat formed on his entire body. She was gone! Looking wildly he surveyed the darkness. Bodies rose and fell with the beat and yet she was gone. With the threads of his mind he searche the dark smoky bar. Further he pressed; his mind floating the deserted warehouse district above. Derilicts and prostitues, vagrants and runaways but not her.
It was then that he felt the hand lying lazily upon his back. (cont.)
