One street, First for bars, old speakeasies - stuck thumb prints in modernity's Rust lipped bilge-boxes. Flappers burst into just as fast fleeting from world an apparition that presides once-in-awhile in a now come to excite this Late night sophisticates its inbred nullity, amid negative ion airlets (snuck from end of First) which möbius-moth their way through every doorway's chasm-ic Pulse. For every chasm we cross: more drink, glasses set above sticky waves which emerge from once smooth tabletops. Three of us and a pleasant addition plays his always-plied guitar. the Embodied apparition, moments before her tears, opened everyman's pure intentions. ambiance Twists on itself her lost keys, then humor cleave world at, First. ...taking solidity it Surrounds the flight of fancy. Flapper caught in full burst, we talk Patience, the Moment, and Liquids working us, address downstreet ions. Happily, our movements mandate motion. At the end (almost water-side) like growths from wronged ground, six camels pervert their necks skyward. Five in "don't touch" distance, one near. the one near, we pet. his damp bulbs watching, deign us kind but uncertain. He foams gurgles- but we know nothing about camels. She thinks he's sick but says he's sweet. moments recess in ambiance. -the vehicle needs a locksmith.