Don’t bogart my heart.


It was 1am and the crowd was good.  Rick had been shaking martinis all night long.  A sultry Jazz singer was crooning on the stage. Thick smoke filled the air.  He looked up and there she was coming toward the bar.  He was stunned.  Lisa’s sudden disappearance ten years ago nearly killed him.  He returned home from a golf weekend and she was gone, leaving a note that simply said I’m leaving you.  He still did not know why.  Handing a drink over the bar to one his regulars, Rick mumbled “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”  He claimed that he was finally over her.  But was he really?

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