Pistol Pete

blue checked shirt – dark suitable jacket, seated behind and hidden by table, man sits under white table-cloth. floor-lighting casts two arcs, both across the corner walls: brick white; worked wood; smoke glazed green. mirror angled, pistol pete enters, drinking now a black sheep ale, cigarette smoked slowly, ashtray clearly unused, grey ash and waxed floors. the suits don’t even notice. part-time waiter notices, with open eyes for detail, a theatre production painter. suits in conference, ale now empty, foam on glass makes everything clean. cough and gun-cocked, fired, white wall pink to red; wood green and red. pete knows it will be incredibly difficult to wash out.