But – I missed you too, Peter. well, you’ll hear about that. Okxxx A nod to the barman, and another drink wended its way over. I went to the bar and drank til the morning came, its brooding light turning the black snow to grey, and still she never came. The hands of the clocked ticked past, unrealistically fast. We arrived at a garage. She shrugged. In that light, she looked like an angel. She shrugged. Yet, far from looking contrived, the car exuded purpose and workmanship, every line of it speaking of power and fluidity. Bad habit. But, the atmosphere is good, and drink is cheap and of decent quality, and -possibly something to do with the condition of the exterior – there was never any hassle from roving groups
