More from the notebook...

[mrlich]

I was in love. I was young. I wrote badly.

So now I transcribe it here for you to enjoy/laugh at/whatever.

I'm going to leave it as it is - with all the bad grammar and... well... bad writing for sentimental reasons.

Oh, and briefly (for those of you who don't already know) Patch is a character I have been writing about since high school. He's a werewolf vigilante. You've heard of art therapy right? Call Patch writing therapy. Sanity is his wolf companion, and the Gypsy was the fantasy world parallel to the woman I loved.

* * *

The broken neon above the door said "Maxie's" sometime in the past. That time has come and gone. However, the place is still open, and while the Gypsy's taking a nap, I think that I could use a coffee. Sanity wouldn't let me go alone.

"Well old girl - should we try it?" The beautiful timber wolf at my side just looks up at me, patiently wagging her tail. "That's what I thought you'd say."

It's a lowtown bar - the type that I frequent, although this time I'm looking to relax. Even in lowtown, they like to keep some rules - the bouncer makes his way to us.

"No pets allowed." It comes out as a sneer. He's trying to be fear inducing, but I've forgotten how to be afraid.

"Do you want to tell her she can't come in?" I give him a toothy grin.

As the moron looks down at Sanity she begins to snarl. He looks like he's about to wet himself.

"Just keep her with you and keep her under control." then he quickly shuffles back into his place.

All eyes are on us as we walk into the bar. I guess people around here aren't used to six foot two - two hundred twenty pound patrons with a black leather eye patch and a timber wolf at his side.

"Coffee. Black. Thanks." The bartender nods, not even daring to speak. I don't turn around. I can still feel several sets of eyes burning into the back of my head.

The coffee comes quickly, steam rising from the rim of the cup. It doesn't even smell like half bad stuff. I raise the cup to my lips, but before I can get a taste, I'm interrupted. Someone taps my right shoulder. Sanity starts to growl. I set down my drink.

"Why don' you get that hairy mutt outta' here?!" I turn slightly to see an enormous bulk of a man standing behind me and poking me with a single chubby finger.

"Why don't you sit down, shut up, and not worry about it?" I turn back to my coffee, trying to remain calm. The Beast calls to me. begging me to release it - to punish this ass for bothering me when all I want is a cup of coffee.

The mountain behind me grabs my right shoulder and spins me on my stool to face him. Sanity continues to snarl. "Easy girl."

"I don' think you understood me - I want that scragly mutt out of here - yesterday."

"Look," I glare at him with my one good eye, "you have no idea who I am, or what I'm about so I strongly suggest you think twice before you continue to annoy me." I turn back to the bar, my blood pounding a war beat in my temples, the Beast pleading with me. This idiot had better get away from me... fast.

"I said now!" He has spun me around again and accentuated each word by poking me in the chest with his fat index finger. The bouncer (who has remained at the end of the bar, enjoying the evening's entertainment) is laughing with the bartender about my current situation.

The Beast howls.

The big, strong, drunk man before me whimpers as I break his finger. Jerking on his arm, I send him face-first into the bar with the cracking sound of wood and bone. On the edge of my consciousness I hear Sanity keeping the bouncer and the big man's friends at bay.

Turning the fat man over and pulling back on his thinning hair, I draw back my fist, ready to punch through his windpipe. The bloodlust is incredible - the Beast screams for it. Kill. So hard to stay in control.

A soft hand gently grasps my wrist. The scent of her enters my nostrils. I turn to see her stern yet forgiving face. A calmness washes over me, forcing down the Beast, and making it easy to regain control.

"Look at him." She nods at the human mountain, who cringes wide-eyed at me. He realizes how close to death he just came. He starts to cry.

"Let's go now." Although her tone is that of a friend, her words have the effect of a mother speaking to an upset child. I quickly drink my coffee, leave two dollars on the bar, and leave a now silent bar with the Gypsy at my side and a protective Sanity not far behind.

     - The Beginning.

* * *

Heh. You know that it was a long time ago that I wrote that. How? I remember thinking "I'll have him (Patch) leave $2 on the counter - because that will be like 150% tip!"

Just thought this was kyoot and kinda sappy so I hope you enjoyed it even half as much as I did rehashing it.