Tuesday, April 28, 2026

1885 - The Club

 


The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece

limits list still bill smoke ring distant wish silky spill fit key 


The Club

The first thing that you see 

Is all the books:

They cover many of the walls

Of the premises.  Wall-paper.

Browsers—the traditional kind,

Search through them.

Others are absorbed in a book—

And a Chesterfield,

Sitting still, distant, wishing, dreaming.

A waitress appears and disappears

Into the mahogany shadows,

A silky smooth apparition,

Like a swirl of smoke,

To appear as needed 

No need to ring, she knows.

Coffee, liqueurs, cold drinks

Latte, aperitif, amuse bouche.

No bills, accounts are mailed.

A board on the wall lists options

Little changes though—

The room drips history, consistency.

Change of any sort doesn’t fit.

There are limits here—

understood, not stated.

This is another world

Nothing spills into it.  Or out.

That is the key to its charm.

And success.


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