The Last Time Machine. Forum You walk into the bar.

a strange looking man on a mission it seems peers through the windows out front. He looks a little disgusted, maybe befuddled at the time lapse inside. I follow his gaze and ponder the elegant girl in her yellow dress... wonder if shes taller than i am. Wonder why its so captivating to watch the flow of their ryhthm... steps, twirls.... how any one could dance to this song is beyond me. Shaking myself out of this abscure amazement, i swagger over to the guitar player with my hips swinging consciously beneath me. "Hey, how bout some Dylan man, it's just about the perfect night for Just Like a Woman... maybe knockin on Heavens door.... if u think u could do the man justice...."

Im looking at the watch, intently. I noticed that people are slowly coming back to life.
What the hell was that? People just dont pause like that.....Maybe someone drugged my drink....but that cant be possible, seeing that I refuse to let anyone buy me my drinks. I watched the barkeep the entire time.
Strange...

I know I just got out of the showers, but yet, my hair is totally dry. It's like I didn't even go to the showers.
I look into my black book.....no.....that can't be.....

Ive wrote several new pieces, and their all dated. A week has passed in that one instant.

What the hell is going on? What did I do in that week of nothing span? Who's new here? Who's the chick in the yellow dress??

I suddenly feel utterly nauseous, so I scamper to a booth, causing the guy in the turtleneck to spin around....he's still not moving, but I can hear his breathing. Low, and steady breathing, with unblinking eyes.

The man freezes when time stops, but not because he is frozen, but pretending. His briefcase allows him certain abilities. He pretends to freeze so he can see who froze time, and what is their motivation. He resist the urge to reach for his briefcase. He sees movement across the bar, and watches from the corner of his eye.

Frozen in the middle of a James Taylor impersonating Carly Simon song, I was just about at "your scarf it was apricot" when the world stopped. What the hell? I come back to my senses to a hip swinging doll asking for Bobby D. Yeah, I can do all that. "Mama take this badge off of me, I can't use it anymore."I hit my A minor chord and look for the piano player.

With the amber of my second drink held in midair, I wonder why things have gone haywire. I must have gotten drunker than I thought. I have fluid in my bones, but bones that feel like concrete. I've stared at this same Brass Monkey for what must be a year.

I search my memory: I had looked up in time to see the young girl with the black notebook break a glass on purpose. The why of it escaped me completely even then; maybe just her need to do something destructive? Then I have to laugh. I had given the pianoman a medal in my mind for the smile he had put on my face, in his underwear and vest, buying drinks for everyone. The bar had seemed to come alive as he played old rock-and-roll. This is the man in the silver car who splashed me earlier, gone from intense scowl in the parking lot to buying everyone�s drinks in his underwear! I celebrate for his happier circumstances for the flash of a second.

The diamonds in my hand are like so much cut glass. Rather than give me love, Jonethan has given me �things� like payment for being his mistress and maid. I place the rings and necklace carefully inside the ashtray on the table: a tip for the oriental waitress. I�m safe and hidden. There�s no way Jonethan will think to look for me in the airport bar. I watch the girl in yellow as things seem to come to life around Bob Dylan's music; several people beginning to come into focus finally.

Pushing my fingers through my hair, I push off my heels and stretch my toes in ecstasy. I feel stiff all over. The day was more exhausting than I'd thought. I down my third...maybe fourth...Brass Monkey and begin to feel more relaxed. It hits like a hammer. I�ve been behind the red curtain in the lounge on more than a few occasions and motion to Mamu to see if I can go in there to get away from the general mayhem. He nods at my unspoken request for asylum. This isn�t a night I feel like dancing. One last time I touch Jonethan�s diamonds, like they�re attached to him somehow. I�ll miss him. I shake my head at myself as I head for the lounge.

As she walks back into the bar, she notices a man lying on the floor. She leans over the marble top and tells the barman to get her a whiskey and a pitcher of water. The pitcher comes adorned with lemon twists and jingling with ice cubes. Downing the Glenfiddich in one, she keeps her eye on the dance floor. She flip flops over to the recumbent figure and beings to pour�.

The water soaks his clothes but he doesn�t even flinch. She moves the trickle up to his face and turns the remains out with one smooth movement. The man begins to stir, no doubt assisted by the lemon twist resting in his ear.

I can feel myself sitting in the bar. My posterior and face feel wet. I can smell lemon but cant see it. There is a knawing pain in my body. It feels like something has been wrenched out.

"Why do the ladies look so sad?"

...baaaalllls oofff Fire!!!!!!'
What A Ride, Man!
Stand up from the piano. Stands up on the piano stool. Hitches his silk boxers, tucks his stained blue vest into them. At the top of his not inconsiderable lungs, "Now which you fine sad-looking young sheilas wants to dance with me. Come on, Dont you know a good thing when you seeit ladies" Hitches his silk boxers even higher. "I gotta damn mansion in the goddamn hills and not one of you wants to come to a party....

She looks at the man on the stool. She's been drying off the man at the bar but he's ignoring her.

She looks at the man on the stool.

She looks at the man on the stool whilst all the other ladies take a step towards him.

She looks at the man on the stool.

I should be able to stop dancing now, people are relaxing, defrosting.
She threw water on his shell.
That will confuse him. How much can he feel what is here, I wonder, how much does he see?

Piano man wants to dance. I could, but I shan't, there is direction in his question. Offers of an invitation to the mansion. Should I? If the past holds anything, he will give me one if I need it.
I need a drink and the barman, an old face, slides me a Casablanca with a wink. Old habits.

I am very aware of the people who are not here. I should not have spent time sleeping, however brief. Turtleneck looks sweaty, keeps fiddling with his bfiefcase, with his phone. HA. If he knew that case was empty he may relax a little more.
The woman next to me looks too good to be here, sophisticated, actually waiting for a flight, possibly. She looks humour-topsey-turvey. I have never seen her before.

My eye flicks around the bar. So much waiting. The sailor stands by the curtain, his strong frame dwarfed by Mamu. Yes, I would, I think.

I drink deeply, waiting to see who will dance with Piano Man.

I have to smile at myself in bare stockings and ruined from rain, shoes in hand. Then outright grin at the balls of this guy, standing there drunk or crazy, but suddenly a party in the hills sounds like a good idea. If any of the others go I�ll join in. What the hell, I think to myself. The planes are grounded and I have nowhere better to go. I wave my heels at the silly, handsome creature with a smile. This will have to be better than mourning over diamonds and dust. I'm not one to volunteer, but it's turned from gloom to entertainment. It's almost a joke that every woman in the bar must have turned and taken steps in his direction like he holds a magnet and not the hem of his silly shorts.

There they go. He has lost none of the magic. Chloe waves her shoes.
Who will stay? Thats the question.

Somewhere, behind my eyes, leaves shimmer in the evening sun, I.....

(Eyes closed. inhaling........."pushed to one side...." Release)

....take another swig.

I look around. Feeling wet. My mind feels foggy. Distant. I cant concentrate upon anything as i sit on the floor. I see two ladies near me. One keeps looking this way and that. Another stands near me.

"I feel like an easter Egg. A Chocolate button one. Empty inside." I mumble to myself as i look at the briefcase.

I cannot see far beyond. Its all dark. A nightside eclipse. I can see something fuzzy adjusting his underwear. Another picking his nose.

Can i really see them? Or anything? Or do i just know it?

It feels so scary. Are people looking at me? I turn to the flitting lady. She seems so nice. So helpful. Deep down i know she saved me. Well, i think so. "Dont throw lemons at the fence... The bogey man will let you in."

I can feel vomit riding up inside me and stagger to the bathroom.

He lollops towards the toilets. The new ones are always the same, it's disorientating.

I look to Piano. He makes eye contact, then breaks it.

I look to Sailor, smile. A lingering smoulder in return. Mmmmm, interesting.
Another beer is slid to me. I wink at the barman. He needs no requests.

Oh my, now that IS interesting. The bolshy girl with the black notebook is flicking from page to page with a look of suspicion? Confusion? I'm not sure.
Beautiful and sharp.....hmmm.

I get up to see what he can do with that guitar.......

All her mind shouts 'I'll go'

All her heart says ... 'let him find me, if he dares'.

The wet man brushes past her as he races away with a green tinge to his face. She see's the other girls nudging eachother and begin to take a step forward.

She motions to the bartender to pass her the bottle of Glen and another glass. She walks up to and past the man. He surveys the reaction of the other women with an undisguised arrogance. Once behind him she quickly turns and bends down to whisper in his ear...

'Seems you have a choice of many, old man.' As she straightens up to move on, her breast briefly touches his stained vest.

She walks to a booth with a knowing smile on her face. Her idle thoughts amuse her ...'I feel like a virgin with the mind of a w***e'.

A shot whistles through her mind, piercing out through her eyes. In that moment, she looks behind the bar to see a spidertrail crack appear on the mirror.

Ladies. A thought enters your mind. "wouldnt it be funny if those silk boxers were to fall?"

Fast forward...

Chapter selected. Outtakes:

The glass like environs around you smash and are replaced by the same scene.

Slow mo.

They fall. Pause...

Piano man. I am not one to often give choices. Nor am i a God to make you do what you do not wish to do. However, as i massage your heart in my hands of sharded glass i say to you. Look at the booth... And think a little. You might like it.

Play. Back to normal.

Party in the mansion, huh? Well...why not. It's raining....a nice little Villa Diodati...Im in the mood to tell scary stories by candle light, getting drunk off wine, and trying to out wit each other with each passing moment.

I grab the gent in the brown turtle neck, and Im persuading him to go with me. I tell him it will be good times, we'll be the newest Shelley, and Mary Godwin. It will be a grand time.

Sides, the piano man is so damn excited about having company over....

I mumble something to myself about turkey legs and christmas stockings as I snap out of a cloudy daze. Where was my mind? Who is this woman with her arm around me? I decide that I'm too confused to try and fight her firm grip around my waist. I set my bottle (which is half full and now warm for some reason) down on a table and follow the young woman's lead.

Just about to pat narnie's bum as she brushes past when the shot hits the window. "F**k! what was that! Mamu! Mamu! Go find out what happened, and organise a f*****g car while you're at it." Turns to the room, arms outstretched, "Alright alright, Don't Panic. Everythings under control. If they wanted me dead, I'ld already be dead. Jealousy a f*****g curse, but they just don't learn. Or more of 'em keep showing up." Looks around for narnie but can't recognise her in his obviously bombed state. Sees the hipster, "Hey kid. Do me a favour. Just between harmless you and me, which one of these ladies is gonna be most happy with I got." Patting his wallet and adjusting his shorts. "Just between you and me. Man to man."

'He heard the crack!' The realisation that she had not been the only one to hear it, comforted her. 'The b*****d is so out of it he thought it was a gunshot'

She stood up to go and tell him but as she walked, time slowed

She walked up behind her love. He was sat at the table playing poker with three others. Her steps were so quiet that she was fretful that he would hear her skirts rustle. An arms length away and she swung the bottle high, bringing it down to his skull with a force that sent splinters of green glass flying across the room. He crumpled to the floor with a thud, spilling his whiskey on the way. The men looked up from their cards. The old man looked at her 'You did well' he said. The one next to him, his eyes never moving from her bosom, reached into his pocket and produced the purse of coins. She took it quickly and stowed it in her corset. "You have arranged for his disposal adequately?" the old man asked. "Tis all arranged." she said quickly "He will be finished and then he will dissapear. You need have no worries. My word is true." With that they got up and left, old man pausing only to push the slumped figure with his foot. As the door closed behind them, she knelt down to tend to him.

'Oh for f***s sake!' she thought as her mind cracked back into place. 'What is this place? I need to get out of here. I have jetlag or Im drunk or Im mad - I dont know which. I just have to get out of here.'

"OY!" she shouted above the hubbub. "If there's a party, then Im coming too."