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| open:� he had a fanatic trust in signs, so when he saw in the window, the old fashioned "open" in typeset script, he thought that he would go inside.� never mind it was two in the deep of morning, no lights on there, and shuttered, James street all like an empty glove.� the door opened, as promised.� eyes dilated to dark, but still couldn't see, blind felt his way in until touching a table, chair, seated himself.� waited in silent black, half an hour.� then shape of a man came, silent, gave him a menu.� he took out his lighter, the man didn't move.� in its yellow he could read, but it wasn't for food.� it was for something else. | ||