The night I saw her at The Devil’s Elbow the tramp in the square’s twilight terrors split the night’s soft toddle of music from Chambar. It was the kind of bar, I thought as I trundled past, where you were supposed to meet someone like her. And it was one of those nights, too. A nightContinue reading “Devil’s Elbow”
Tag Archives: noire
Jack, or was it Jake?
I. Jack. Or Jake. I don’t exactly know for sure, ’cause everybody used to call the cat one or the other. One night old Paul’d be in and see the skinny cat hangin’ out in his usual spot at the end of the counter. He’d holler, “How you been, Jake?” And cat would nod andContinue reading “Jack, or was it Jake?”
