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The Woman in Red
Each night, I go to the same bar, at the same hour. Eight o’ clock. And each night, everything is the same. I go up to the bar, sit on a stool, and order my usual drink. But on one strange Monday, my work ran late and I didn’t get off until half past eight. Frustrated, I walk to the bar.
As I go to open the door, I hear singing. Live singing. Usually, the bartenders only play music off the record player. My hand against the door handle, I decide that I’m not going to the bar today. But, someone opened the door and I awkwardly said, “Oh, sorry…” Against my own decision, I entered the bar.
I look towards the opposite side of the bar, where a woman wearing a red dress is singing. She sings beautifully. My eyes stare. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Then, her eyes met mine. I quickly turned the other way and walked towards the stools. I ordered my normal drink. Her voice continues to sing, and it sounds like a dream. It was the most beautiful voice I had ever heard.
After close to an hour, the woman in red steps off the stage, and gathers her things. She walks out the bar door. I quickly finished my drink, and tossed money on the counter for the bartender. At a jog, I start to move down the sidewalk in search of the woman. I turn around the block, but something in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I stop and look at a poster on the red brick wall. A missing poster. A missing poster for the beautiful woman in red. She was wearing the same outfit today as on the poster. My eyes move across the poster as I finally reach the bottom. She went missing seven months ago. No one has seen her since.
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This piece was written from the perspective of a man from the 1960-70s.