2:08 AM, the side door of a bar opens on a warm August night. A woman steps out, she has mid length straight dark hair and is carrying an instrument case. She is followed by another woman, and then two men. There is the slight smell of marijuana in the air as they gaze at the lights of the city. The men are talking. One, slightly stockier and carrying a guitar, seems to be intently telling a story. The other listens, smiles and replies. The reply brings a grin to the first man’s face, a wide smile, his white teeth glow in contrast to his olive toned skin. His grin turns to a laugh and his head rolls back. The conversation carries on, with chuckles, smiles and laughs. At length, the first woman steps into the street and stops a cab, opening the back door she climbs in and slides across to the far side. The conversation stops, the second woman says a few words, shakes the guitar bearing man’s hand and backs off a step. The two men embrace, smile and part. The guitar goes in the cab followed by its owner. The remaining two watch the cab head east on Belmont Ave then turn and walk west. This is not the first parting of friends, will it be the last.
