The Night Raven

4 Sep

The Night Raven comes at night.  Swiftly, silently; he is unseen coming and going.

The Night Raven feeds on fine whiskeys and gins, breathing in his alcohol like cool mountain air.  He is smart.  Maybe too smart for his own good, and he has seen things I cannot imagine.  His thoughts hover in the humid darkness…… and wait for mine to catch up.  Pulsing candlelight frolics in the background, and, as gin splashes over my fingers, a wave of calm inexplicably washes over my erratic equilibrium.  He warns me about the dangers of opening up to men, letting them in, showing them my weaknesses.  He understands.  He has enjoyed the company of both sexes.

The Night Raven doesn’t see gender.  And he doesn’t see that my shirt is wrinkled; that my hair fell limp from the humidity two hours ago.  He opens a wounded wing to reveal his offering to me: a collection of three keychains and four magnets from his travels through Poland and Turkey.

I smile with my eyes.  I sip my gin.  I hold souvenirs from faraway places I can’t afford to visit in my hand.  I nod my head and confidently show him my weaknesses.

I look at his eyes instead of his scars while I do.


2 Responses to “The Night Raven”


  1. The Australian « What's in the Box? - November 29, 2012

    […] if, after the blind date, I meet up with someone else and have 76 more beers.  I reunited with The Night Raven after the Aussie and I went our separate ways.  He had just returned from a Thanksgiving trip to […]

  2. OKCaveman | What's in the Box? - April 11, 2013

    […] at Passenger Bar in Williamsburg.  You may know him as Grandma’s Bisexual Spice Rack or The Night Raven.  He was running late, so I ordered a drink while I waited.  The bartender was a gargantuan man […]

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