Night Ritual

It’s the wee hours of the morning

at the local bar and lounge.

The place is nearly empty.

Last dance.

A woman sits alone in a booth,
occasionally sipping her drink.

Hoping for someone to save her.

A man sitting at the bar

approaches.

Offers his hand.

Dance?

The air is thick with cigarette smoke,

and desperation.

The sad notes of a saxophone

wail in the background

as the two barely move in place,

wound around each other
like two snakes on a caduceus.

Grinding to the silent beat of loneliness.

The music fades.

The motion stops.

Last call.

The patrons finish their drinks and

find their way to the exit.

Retreating back into themselves.

Lost in the night.

Last chance.

The woman and man

push into the cold air,

still wound together,

making their way down the bleak

empty street.

It’s the wee hours of the morning

at the local bar and lounge.

The place is nearly empty.

A woman sits alone in a booth….

This scenario came to mind while listening to the theme music of the British program "A Touch of Frost."  It sounds so lonely and sad to me. You can hear the music if you go to YouTube and search "A Touch of Frost."