C, once again

The writer writes for his own gratification, usually subconscious for the desire of status, just like most other male animals. Perhaps, equally unaware, the writer writes, as a means to parade the act of speech making - that, like an ironic bird song in a thoroughly inappropriate medium is but a mating instinct; but being human, with all that anxieties and irritation and all that uncertainties and helplessness, and for him at least, he writes as if a portrayal of exactly his reality might make everything better - that as if if they could see the way he saw the world, they will feel exactly the same way and know.

Samuel went out of the pub to look for Tony, but in not finding him, stood aimlessly outside the pub, examining the couple out of the corner of his eye.

The couple were both leaning against the grille of the waist-tall green fence, with the girl's left shoulder rubbing against the guy's right upper arm, both looking right in front at the entrance of the pub. Their shoulders were slumped and few words were exchanged. Were they fighting, Samuel thought. The girl's hips turned just slightly towards the guy, as if she was going to turn to face him, but then she turned back instead. Was she restless?

But now Tony appeared, shouting "Yo, yo, Samy, Samy!", and there he was, standing there, dramatically, warmly smiling. Together with his well pressed shirt and trousers and good skin - Tony looked a picture of vitality. Surely by now there must be some sign of age or that odd wrinkle, Samuel thought. Or perhaps it was just his memory of Tony, that no matter how much Tony changed or aged, he could in that face always glimpse those initial impressions of Tony as a young man bursting with energy.

And now both Samuel and Tony entered the pub. There was [J], [V] and [C], which were all Samuel's friends, and after a quick series of introductions, all urge Tony to sing a song. This was no special occassion and despite the depressed economy, merriment appeared free flowing among Samuel's group of friends; and as they appeared good natured towards him, and despite his terrible voice and the embarrasment he would no doubt suffer, Tony was inclined to agree.

But Tony was saved by Cindy, who swirled around in a charming white mini skirt, and asked Samuel "Hey what may I get for you friend? Another glass?" Samuel leaned and whispered in her ear, "Yes, and bring us a bottle of Gordon Bleu. He is a very special friend."