the art of atmosphere:
loud music tuned to bass, talking all around in such suffusion that individual groups can only hardly and in certain cases be determined. lighting dim, tiny spotlights pointing out [sic: illuminating] various water-themed art, hooded lamps, a cheap glass candle on every table, flickering weakly and creating more a point light than any illumination. [sic: maybe not the previous sic...] the music pours from well-placed speakers throughout the establishment and mixes with the talking and CRACK of pool being shot on a multitude of tables in two large wings off from the entrance and central bar.
I have a number. I should have a pool table soon. Next, in fact, as the people before me are found and placed. I have my back to the door for no particular reason but I'm waiting for someone to show. And here he is.
We get mind erasers to be followed by vodka sours. Let the games begin.
~~~
drunk. it feels good. despite all that earlier. I made two masterful shots last game and then proceeded to lose by four balls. One moment to another, when it's all "luck", the distribution unfortunately fits a bell curve. [sic: I made three more masterful shots in three or four more games... neither of us did all that well, though I did more poorly than he; I didn't win a game]
(Hi Kaolin it's brandon don't worry i'm not reading only writing and with no punctuation) [sic: not entirely true -- you used apostrophes. ;)]
[sic: later, having coffee to sober up and discussing engineering (brandon is teaching me about timing pulleys and such)]
"cats dash across so randomly" [sic: <- me]
(It's probably not so random as you think. In fact, it's probably done in such a way as to influence the stock market.) [sic: <-him]
[sic:
I think that's beautiful. =)
And I'm probably using/abusing/overusing "sic:"; I know that it's used when editing, but I may be missing subtler connotations...
]
