Harry, fair hair a little damp, strode purposefully down the long brightly lit road towards Sardi. Orange filters on high street lamps cast strange shadows across elevated lean cheek bones. Cheek bones as lean as the rest of him. He could feel soft drizzle filtering through the shoulders of a thin jacket.
Harry was perplexed, trying to remember something that had been at the edge of remembrance for the last half hour .
‘What‘!? It was a curse of frustration
Dark eyes flicked up and across the road; arms and long legs swung, carrying him towards a night of drinking, dancing. More, he hoped!
A speeding car hurtled past. Through a water filled pothole that had been reflecting the moon until assaulted. The muddy slush spattered brand new hip hugging levis, leaving him glaring with gritted teeth; as close to a privet hedge as he could be without getting wetter.
The cortina, travelling towards the club, disappeared round the bend at the end of the road; and he resumed walking and puzzling as soon as he’d brushed most of the muddy water from his jeans; then he stopped momentarily. He’d touched a light shirt with dirty hands. It left a brown stain, far to visible; and he stared ill temperedly into the night .
‘ Shit‘. He exclaimed, resumed walking, remembered what he’d been trying to recall and hesitated.
‘ Walking through the club door. It’s like arriving home. He said that as well. Tony. Yes. It was Tony’.
And attention could move on. Eyes darted, taking in nothing, only seeing the dimly lit inside of Sardi, filled with dancing men, and a few woman, in a vivid picture in the imagination.
The drab, too familiar surroundings couldn’t hold any attention and certainly not he, already seeing an exhilarating future moment, more immediate moment, already forgetting a just gone flash of irritation.
As he followed the car round the bend his pulse quickened, beginning to move in time to as yet unhearable music, followed by the thrill of excitement, mixed with stomach catching fear, usually felt when approaching the local pub. Back stiff he strode speedily past, unconsciously muttering the same phrase he always did at that place.
‘ The only straight place for miles and it has to be here, so close to the towns gay club‘.
He lit a cigarette and his feet moved faster, already almost dancing to that still unhearable music.
He was feeling randy and the memory of a recent sexual exploit added to the feeling.
‘ God! I‘m gagging for it. It’s been ages’. He muttered; and smiled warmly, remembering the last bonk, wondering if they would get it together a second time.
A long shadow, cast by his tall wiry physique, captured that restless attention momentarily, thrown out by the one functioning lamp in this part of the street. Nerves were jangled. The excitement of an evening out, the possibility of a sexual encounter that might even lead to a new relationship ensured that.