The evening ended on a high note. A C, I believe. When the applause faded into
murmurs and restless rustlings I found myself in the midst of a jubilant crowd,
jockeying for position to exit the venue.
A seemingly endless series of stairs climbed up and up, testament to the
quality of my third row seat. By the time I’d made my way to the top I was winded, weak in the knees.
Across a carpeted foyer and into the night, I inched along, part of a slowly stampeding
herd. Around me, talk swirled of late dinners and night caps, of romantic
assignations and illicit rendezvous.
The doors opened onto a blustery night. Jackets quickly donned against the chill
could not dampen the anticipation in the air. And I? I threw caution to the wind and
ordered two donuts at the bakery next door.
Walking on the wild side.
