Day 249. Through the Smoky Haze at Cafe Silencio

Serge thought he was the last person to leave Cafe Silencio that night.  Noctural amblings in Parisian nightclubs had become his practice.  He was in a foul mood, warding off several advances from those that had offered them.  Now he regretted it.  Some company at 4 a.m. wouldn't have been so bad.  Alors, off he started to go.

Suddenly, he heard the scratch of chair legs against the floor.  Someone else was here?  How could that be?  Although, how could it not, it was so smoky in here, he could barely see a thing.  And then, a husky female voice said, "Got a light?"  Serge hurriedly struck a match, to oblige, yes; but more so, to illuminate the body from whence the request came.  He was not disappointed.  Even shrouded in a nicotine cloud of darkness, he could see her dangerous beauty.  In his head, he heard another voice--one that warned, "Il n'y a pas de fumée sans feu" (where there's smoke there's fire).  He hesitated briefly, enough so that he could comprehend the surrealism of the situation.  Perilous femme fatale in a club created by David Lynch himself...he could be entering into a scene from "Blue Velvet."  And yet, he couldn't stop himself...so tantalizing, the danger of lust.