A noir night to remember Miles Davis - Kind of Blue
Prologue It began in a night when rain poured down on the dirty streets like it ever rarely did, the sky was black as no starts dared to show and even the moon spent most of its time hiding, only the city lights illuminated the paths and walkways of that little city who seemed more like a town. It was mostly a quiet city, trouble one very rarely come out to trouble someone, most people got along just fine, for all were quite educated, one could even say it was a city of charms, noblemen and noblewomen. Poverty, illness and sin were ever rarely found, that is except for that sin of lust, for it was not that hard to spot someone on a darker corner doing it shamelessly right there, and most pubs and cafes buzzed with men and women hitting on each other, teasing games, flirty talk, indirect compliments… and even direct ones all mixed with the slight scent of martinis and absinthe. But in one of those cafes in particular, placed at the southwest corners of that peaceful city, the ambient wasn’t so buzzed as one would expect, considering all the other places. There stood a band on a small stage, playing a calm and relaxing jazz, with a few mixes of classical ambient music who tried to lure folk in, the bar counter spread from one side to the other having space enough for ten stools, which was quite a bit compared to the five tables of four that occupied the rest of the place. On one of the stools stood a woman, with an average height, a smooth and long hair toned in a dark brown flowing down into her shoulders and her slightly uncovered back, her brown eyes with a soft touch of silver admiring the band’s performance, on her was a slender black dress with a short skirt and a revealing cleavage, one that slight pushed the boundaries of the allowed at the time as the edge ended near the knees and not the common after the knees ending, black stockings then covered her legs, at least for what could be seen, and to finish, some simple black toned heels with a subtle stiletto look. Her pose had her leaning her right side gently against the counter, her hand supporting her head as it pushed gently against her check and her elbow resting against the top of the counter made out of ebon wood, a glass with two ice cubes and an opaque sunset colored concoction