a scene for a movie I will never produce SCRIPT#56 Scene 12 the bar A color explosion of neon lights Intermingling though the rain-soaked window of a tainted almost empty city bar. At 3am the tables are stacked With broken hearts. He lifts the untouched glass and takes the first sip of his drink. It drowns the cadence of Sorrowful whispers that haunt him from his past For a quiet moment peace visits. In its clarity A pretty lady is staring at him from her stool at the bar. Her grey eyes soft and smokey. The exchange is palatable. Something is happening. He returns her glance. And notices the corners of her lips Slightly curving into a half smile. Their glances touch in the dark space between them. …………... To be continued