Crumpled dreams - 11

and her page said:

Slow Dance in a No Name Town

A small dark motel with a curving bar
branded by fallen cigarette butts
carved with misshaped hearts
and crazy initials.

Old smoke condensed on window panes
sadly in need of a washing or two
bits of peanut shells ground into
the gaps of the floorboards.

What an unlikely place to fall in love.

The drive had been long

down winding dusty roads

bordered by swaying field on unknown crops

ending at this leaning porch motel which

blared melodies that we knew.

What an unlikely place to fall in love.

Time went on, song after song

the heat descended and the crowd grew dense

thunder rolled in, the doors both front and side were flung open

the songs disappeared amongst the chatter and only now and then

did we catch a familiar word.

What an unlikely place to fall in love.

Sitting alone, getting deep in my chair 

rain splattering on gravel outside

couples seeking refuge 

racing from the peeling picnic tables outside.

Silence.

A voice I recognize starts falteringly

gaining confidence with the encouragement of the crowd.

I turn in my comfortable chair

that's when I found my unlikely love. 

For the rest of The Little Story, read here.