Under the table

I am sitting at a table in this dark, noisy bar. Well, is not more or less noisy than any other bar, the tables are much more higher that other bars though. As I’m sitting there here he comes, in all his tallness and . . .oh well his cuteness and – believe it or not – hides under the table.
Under the table he remains telling me something or other about some girl who’s  . . . after him? Or such nonsense or other.
Then, I wake up.

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