Outside in the cool, midnight breeze two pairs of eyes watched for a signal; closer to the door, a third pair listened.
It wasn’t yet time.
As the last chord was strummed, the final lyric floated off into the weed-filled air, the audience applauded as one.
The eyes now made their move.
There was no panic amongst the club regulars – there never was.
Hey man, shit happened.
For all that they were a pain in the ass, it had to be conceded that Sheriff Menzies’ boys were without doubt the most considerate drug cops in the Valley: never began a raid during a song – genuinely respectful music lovers to a man.
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.