remembering a speakeasy (a story)

Remembering a Speakeasy (a story)

She was sitting at her desk, going over the books for her little cafe in the back streets of NYC. Thinking that it was a quiet day and she was happy to have a moment to herself. She was humming Bye Bye Blackbird . She should have known better, but who could resist? Classic jazz just suited the place and her mood.
It must have triggered something in the bldg. Cuzz she heard it. It all unfolded. She had heard people say it was a remnant. Like a record that kept playing over and over. When nothing was there.
The sounds began with footsteps leading up to the door of her office. She stiffened because she knew there was no one in the cafe, but her. The door squeaked open. She froze. Noone was in the frame of the door.
In the background, she heard what sounded like a bunch of people talking, laughing, glassware and silver clinking. And that sure did sound like Miss Baker herself! With an awesome band playing for her back up.
She was used to this happening now, so she didn’t get creeped out or afraid. She’d much rather listen to Miss Baker than her own humming after all. So she went back to her paper work.
And smelled lemonade. Something else too, but she wasn’t 100% sure what it was. Considering the era of the remnant though, probably moonshine. Yummy.
First she smelled rolls being baked, then lobster and hard boiled eggs.
Num, she was getting hungry! She wished what she was smelling right now were real. She’d go grab a canape or a sandwich. Maybe two.
She tensed, waiting for the next sound in the reel. A loud banging on the door, sirens and a tommy gun. In quick succession. A few ladies screamed. A few men shouted and there were a lot of shuffling sounds out in the hallway. Like a crowd had been led out, under arrest.
Then the bldg was quiet again. She breathed a sigh of relief and went back to her work.
She had thought of getting someone in to figure out if these noises could be erased, but they usually only happened when she was alone. So no one but her was being scared. And nothing ever happened but the noises and smells. It was like a spiritual tease.
A pretty mild one, in the grander scheme of things. It wasn’t like she was possessed, assaulted or raped. So she toughed it out.
She smelled a cigar being smoked and figured the reel was over for the moment. Yeah, no more singing Blackbird at work. What a shame!
She double checked her work, then wrapped it up for the day. She really was hungry and wanted something to eat. Lobster sounded great.
She locked the door behind her and went to the sandwich shop down the street and ordered a lobster roll. And tucked into it zealously.

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