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Latin Beat Page 1 of 4Tonight was the night. He said that to himself every Friday. And Saturday. The mirror had okayed him to leave the house. Hair gelled back, shirt with one button open, and shoes polished and shining. The taxi was waiting. It took him to his usual spot.
Just off Wardour Street, the lights flashed and the people swayed.
Young men tried to get young women into bars, and young women were paid to
get all men into bars. He walked a hundred metres, passed the bars,
Chinese restaurants and flower sellers, to a darkly lit building. As he
got closer, the sounds of the street seemed to disappear and a new sound
could be heard. |
