"She was beautiful, I swear. A work of art I tell you! Do you think I'm lying?!" I held a shotgun to the bartender, questioning his loyalty to my truth. His initials, L.D., were engraved on the hilt I caressed as to calm myself. All I know is I originally woke up to this gun in my face, but now it was coming back. She was returning.

Her hair was a smooth, silky, autumnal brown and her eyes the dark palete of the Rockies. She sat calm peering into my soul, knowing me better than I knew myself. The grin she wore signaled kindness, knowledge, caring. Her hair parted such as the Red Sea by Moses, and her dress hinting to do the same. She was beauty, grace, but obviously not American. Her skin was olive, though pale. An italian goddess.

I put down the gun and look at the shaking bartender, "Don't worry, I get that you won't bite now. Why am I here?"

He laughs hard, "Well a year ago I hired you to retrieve my most famous work, you didn't ask much other than where and when. Haven't seen you for months, man! You haven't replied to anything of mine, did you seriously just spend 3 months drinking?!"

I look up in a haze, swaying, the room is an oyster and the man a clam, "Wha-? Who are you anyway? I'm still finding myself here, dude."

"My name is Leo. Did ya get her? This was supposed to be the meet-up place, I've been here for so long playing this stupid bartender."

"No, but I think she found me. Or is finding me, rather. I'm still figuring that out."