Polly Flanders

"Thanks for the offer, but not today." Polly chuckles. "Maybe another time, we can reacquaint ourselves." Polly reaches out to her friend, linking her arm with Regina's . They walk out of the lane, heading north down Trollop street, towards a cafe. "For now lets share a brew and some tales of old and new."

Continuation...

The darkening horizon, told nothing of the horrors that were dogging the streets of the provincial town of Arrat. Let alone the strip known as Wayot, where many maddened crowds of persons could be found. The purple blue sky, appeared the same across the world, but in Polly's world. It meant that the things mothers and fathers warned their children about, were waking and coming out to mix with the crowds.

Polly and Regina, knew that there were some cities and towns that retained their mythical flavor and an aura of romance, no matter what. But it was certainly not Wayot. Here it was anything but romantic, unless you were under the influence of some drug, common and obscure.

Doggy do littered the streets, human waste of all kinds, and other refuse, alive and dead. The smell was unbearable to those not used to moving around in this particular corner of Arrat. It was simply the world of solicited love.

As Polly and Regina were regulars of the area. Both with entirely different purposes, they knew the better establishments and that was one of the places they were headed towards. A soft drizzle had descended onto the town, sunset anywhere else would have been beautiful. The place they entered was nondescript, just a little door. Fronted with two large gargoyles and planters filled with living garlic. Black painted brick, surrounded the door of heavy oak, its brass strappings mirroring the rear view for those that entered.

Once inside, a bevy of human kind sat quietly eating and drinking. Their conversations hushed, only the occasional outburst of laughter could be heard. Polly followed Regina down the center of the room and then they turned left. Into what Regina had named as her private 'La Ritz'.

A little room, not at all decadent. Tastefully furnished, with two wing backed arm chairs in one corner and a neat little caffe table. Against the wall there was a side board dresser that held, small quantities of alcohol, that would not normally be seen on this side of town. The floors held delightful mishy rugs of the softest hues, of purple and blue, they were extremely soft under foot. In the center of the room there was two tables. One catering for a party of four and the other for more intimate dinners.

Subdued lighting and furnace generated heat, made the room inviting. On the purple black walls, silver framed sketches of the area hung with their own down lights. Some where sketches of the older buildings, others were old past residents that had held a special place in the proprietors heart. To many of the patrons that used this room it was deemed a honor to have your portrait hung on these walls. In silent remembrance of some of the best known characters of Arrat and Wayot.

Polly smiled as she passed some of the images. Recalling some of old friends and their tales. Momentarily she paused as she saw a image of Ahab in his younger days had been given the honor.

"Polly, they believe he has passed." Regina spoke softly, her grating smoke laden voice now disappeared and the true voice, of a cultured lady came into play.

To be continued...