Language or the Kiss

Take the song you are listening to right now or the first song you
think of and write a story or poem using it as your template. Do
not use any of the actual song lyrics, either verbatim or
paraphrased,except as dialogue that is also dialogue within the song.
For example,you cannot use "up ahead in the distance I saw a
shimmering light" as dialogue for the main character, but you can use
"you can check outany time you like but you can never leave" as
dialogue for the night
man character.
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This is inspired from the Indigo Girl's song The Language or the
Kiss.

"Well, look at what the devil brought in" Sam's drawl voice let each
word drip from his wet lips and dangling cigar.

Smoke permeated the air. A thin fog of white swirled underneath the
tired stained glass lamps. The bar was empty. The wood counter
gleamed and was puck full of cigarette marks and water stains. At
first Sam, looked the same, large barrow chest, chest hair peeking
from his open white shirt. Then she noticed the once solid black
hair, now tempered with gray and his face looked tired, lines cut
around his mouth, his skin aged and pale. Bushy eyebrows casted
shadows over his eyes.

He rubbed a mug dry.

"Hi Sam," blood pounded in her ears. Don't throw me out, don't throw
me out...The rubbing slowed. Sam just looked at her. She knew what he
was seeing. Expensive jeans, tailored top, sculptured brown hair with
gold highlights, manicured nails and a custom Gibson in the gaiter
case.

Swipe, another drop of water disappeared into the ragged cloth.

She could hear him say, Ten years you're gone and you come back with
a 'Hi Sam'. Get your skinny ass out of my bar.

Except he didn't
The cloth rubbed the bottom of the mug
"Wha' you want?"
What could she say? Anabel swallowed, her pride curing in her
stomach.
Sam's frown deepened, "I mean a drink, girl. Wha' you want to drink?"
Relief weakened her legs. Coward a voice hissed.

She angled to a stool and sat down.

"Jacks on the rocks."

Sam gave her a curt nod and turned away. The light in the bar grew
dim and at the far end of the room, a spotlight lit a single mike and
stool. Sam placed the glass in front of her.

"I don't know what's you're doing, Ani girl, but you might want to go
upstairs." Started, Ani looked up at her father, surprised to see his
blue eyes full of pity.

"What do you me-" She didn't get to finish.

A tall, thin man came on stage. He settled without pretense on the
stool, his right leg stretched, and the other leg hooked on the bottom
rung of the stool. A shabby guitar graced his raised knee. Long
calloused hands curled around its neck, stroked the taunt strings, and
started to play.

"Didn't know you where coming." Sam said, his voice soft.

Ani shook off the explanation.

With a trembling hand, she downed the whole glass. Sam looked on and
quickly poured a refill.

Then before she could move, Daniel opened his mouth and started to
sing.

Each note incinerated her.

Well, Ani girl, she said to herself. Welcome home, and took
another swig.