Write Yourself Alive

Day 3- The Flapper and the Fed

Day 3: Write something pre 1950s

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The dim lights of the speakeasy illuminate the clouds of smoke floating around the room. People sit in every corner of the room smoking and drinking. The floor is sticky from the illegal alcohol that clumsy drunks spilt on the floor. The feather that dangles from my headband tickles my ear, and I have to keep pulling down the silky dress. I am uncomfortable. I just want to go home and burry my nose in a book, but Peter told me that I need to learn how to live outside my comfort zone.

Peter is my older cousin. He works for a very evil man. He also smuggles alcohol into the country, so that people can hang out in speakeasies and drink their lives away.

"Margaret, a boy is comin' over here and I am expecting that, he is going to ask you to dance." Peter grumbles into my ear. The band is so loud I can barely hear him. "You, be careful out there."

I look at the handsome man headed towards me. His dark brown slacks are loose, but his white button down is tight and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks dangerous. Like a wolf hunting his prey.

I gulp and look back at my cousin. "Where will you be?"

"I'm going to drink, and find myself a pretty lady to dance with." He nods his head to the left. "I have my eye on that blonde beauty right there." He winks at her and she smiles back.

"Ugh, you are so disgusting." I push him away from me.

He laughs and turns to the bartender.

"Hello, beautiful." Mr. wolf bows.

I scoff at his introduction, and begin to turn away from him, but he grabs my arm and spins me back around.

"Would you do me the greatest honor, and dance with me?"

"Even if I say no, I'm sure that you will tug me out on the dance floor."

"You got that right little lady."

"My name is Margaret." I grumble.

"Well then Margaret, shall we?" I nod my head and he slides his hand down my arm and intertwines his fingers with mine. He walks me to the middle of the dance floor, then spins me around his body, s that I face him. "Can you keep up?"

I grin at the sigh of challenge in his eyes and nod my head.

We begin to dance a fast jig. The band is in full swing, and the crowd is very rowdy. After the first dance we do another, then another. After about six songs he grabs my hand again, and pulls me off the dance floor.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asks as we settle into chairs at the bar.

"Just water for me."

His face turns up into a huge smile at my words. He leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek, and murmurs, "Thank you." against it. He pulls away and signals the bartender over.

I stare at him with a blank face. What the heck was that? He looks at me again and chuckles.

"Don't worry I will explain everything later." This just confused me more. Before I can question him though, he stands up with a frantic look on his face. "Come on, I need to get you out of here."

I stand up and follow him outside, to the street. There, at least two dozen men are surrounding the building.

"Johnny boy, what are you doing?" One of the cops asks my Mr. wolf.