Birthday boy.
He dances close to me to blues music while I sing along
The green oscillating fan spreads feelings of nostalgia and numb wine sensation across the Persian Rug. It whispers my secrets across the billiard tables and they fly into the cobbled streets.
Him: I will make you a crown out of plastic hair caps!
He walks me home
He wants to come up
Him: I want to see photos of the beautiful French woman
Me(laughing): Go home birthday boy
People across the street look at us as I gently push him out of the door. A harmless ally.
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