I wrote a story!

The stucco-and-tile façade of the Chee Chee bar glares blackly out onto Broadway; inside, the stale air is tinged purple. A half-dozen men hunch over the bar; four of them are drinking from 24-oz. tallboys of Pabst Blue Ribbon. The bartender has stepped away from his post; that might be him studying the jukebox on the back wall, or it might not. He doesn’t have to worry much about his neglected post; “urgent” is not the watchword here. “Grouchy” might be a better call, gauging from the loudest man at the bar. “You know the old saying, ‘Women and children first?’” he asks the man next to him. “Children, I get. I don’t know about women.” It seems that love, sweet love, has struck again.


  1. Matthew,

    Love the opening – which has that hum of writerly engines about it to tell us things are just getting started – and the ending – which sounds like the last fading of an overtone on a really majestic piano in a really old, really empty theater…

    On another note, and not a point of correction but of curiosity – in the bucolic midwest here, we call those 24 ozzers "silos".



  2. Matthew Lickona says

    Thanks, pal. Silos. Perfect.

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