Oh Forgotten Harlot

“She’s really going tonight.”

The two men turned to the rear of the bar, and saw a woman stumble around the few tables, her movements sometimes matching the rhythm of the music. She whooped in the sudden quiet between songs. The other patrons ducked and made sure not to meet her eyes whenever they stopped swimming for a moment.

“Give us something with a little soul,” she hollered, her arm draped  across a stranger’s shoulder. “Ed? Ed! You listening to me?”

The jukebox hummed back to life. Trumpets swelled and the drums came in and the woman started to sing.

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