John's Cafe, Mystic, Connecticut, early winter, late '80's

Window booth and bar with the patina and cigarette stains, shots all round.  
Another and another and then last call.  
Van Morrison on the juke box,  
and a Guinness while waiting to sink the eight ball...side pocket.    
   
Smokey eyes, then another long drag,
wool scarf hanging down, coat on the rack.  
Slanted snow right outside the door in the holiday bluster, a dimly lit street lamp.  
River reflection...boats tied to the dock.    
   
Lively and friendly laughing chatter and banter  
before bracing across the bridge for home on the Groton side.  
Give me a shot before I head out.  
The street is quiet save for the angelic herald, Hark!