After I stood to say goodbye to Lou and the tall, thin man walked him to the door, I sat down to finish my coffee noticing that the quiet hours were beginning when the Gatekeeper would play music outside the Six Sentence Cafe & Bistro. Thinking of that new dancer, Holli Spirit, at Lou’s club got me wondering if I could work her into the storyline somehow until I heard a snort come from the voice.
“Weren’t you the one running my mouth like it was on fire when I was talking to Lou?” I asked him.
You didn’t shut me up, did you?
“I almost did.”
I know, but what counts is you didn’t.
Denise offers the prompt word “fire” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Stories.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 
Oh, oh, the conscience at work. That small voice inside our head.
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That is good way of putting it: the conscience at work. Blessings and thank you!
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nice!
we (all of us at the Café currently) are stopping and reflecting on recent events.
the ttm may go back to Room 215 and try to figure out what should be done for the abandoned automaton.
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It’s been quite a day at the cafe.
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Ha! No one to blame but himself, it seems…
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An excellent snip it, with you and that very interesting Voice. Also that song is so mellow. I shall play it again. Thanks Gatekeeper!
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