*This story uses language typical of 1950’s era (and slang)
Jed sat at the same table every Friday night. The Paper Doll Club offered him a brief respite from the outside world, monotony of his life, and his troubles at home. He worked a couple of blocks away in North Beach and could stop in for a while before heading home without raising any suspicion with the old bag.
His table afforded him the perfect view of the captivating lounge singer, Viola Vox. Jed enjoyed when Viola paid him some attention; looking at him with her sultry, cerulean eyes when she was singing some jazz standard. Like she was singing just to him and no one else existed. At least that was what he liked to imagine. Viola had a seductive stare that could melt a snowman to nothing but a...
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