The Nocturnals

Out laterthan necessary.The usual wayis closed.Thorns across the gap.Bass behind concrete.A coyote tries onceand turns away.Somewhere nearbya key changes hands.The bass disappears.Kept walking.Three streets laterit returns.Not louder.Closer.People arriveone at a time.Nobody queues.Nobody askswhere the door is.A glance.A turn.Gone inside.Waited across the street.The door opened again.Warm air.Low light.For once,no reason to pretendthis was found by accident.Crossed the street.