Life in handcuffs

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Светлана Никифорова. Life in handcuffs

Bar

Cottage

Slave

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It was in a noisy bar. Immediately after graduation. I was sitting at a table in her favorite blue dress which blends with my eyes. When he was not drunk, but not adequate. To my left sat a girl, but nothing booked. She was blond with a long face covered with sequins, with rounded shapes. We got to talking. Her name is Lida, she was in my last year at College, which I finished. In conversation by the end hangs a heavy pause, during which Lida turned and someone nodded at the tables. We were approached by a guy, the complete opposite of the girls, but they somehow suited each other. The girl asked: – Wanna have some fun?

“Yes,” to the amazement I heard your voice. – Come with me. – How far? – You’ll see. Lida, gracefully jumped down from his chair and went behind the counter to the bartender. About something had a quick conversation with him, alternately looking at us and held him in a secret door covered by a bar from prying eyes. I followed her. The door was low, but the corridor behind her was tall and lean was not necessary. The walls were well polished and consisted entirely of blocks, similar in color to the bricks, and maybe this is what they were?

.....

I walked out of the room into the hallway and looked out into the bar. It was empty. Although who would be out there at such a late hour, when we all know that the bar closed at this time?

It was warm. I called the number that left me the bartender, after a short conversation it turned out that this room is Timothy, and he’ll be back in three minutes because lives nearby.

.....