The Outsider: A Short Story

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I was out alone one evening, in an upmarket part of San Francisco. I went to one of those swish bars... you know the kind, low lights and smooth Pat Metheny-style Latin jazz, tinkling through the speakers. The day had been frustrating. I’d had a succession of meetings to attend, mostly with difficult, demanding clients. Sometimes, I’J thinking in those meetings, when some overbearing suit says something arrogant: ‘Ya feel lucky punk...’ (Dirty Harry: always a good tension release).

The bar wasn’t crowded, so I sat back and sipped at a glass of Merlot, occasionally dipping at a bowl of olives. I was reading a book, The Outsider, by Albert Camus. I’d got to the execution scene, where the anti-hero is facing imminent death with existential fearlessness. Although this may not strike you as light after-work reading, I’ve always found the …show more content…

She was really striking and pretty. What I liked about her was she was really black, not one of those cappuccino girls you see in the movies, the kind of girl who could easily be a Latina or an Italian. No, Leah was really ebony. Her skin shone like black leather. I liked her immediately. She was one of those girls who just had ‘it’ - whatever ‘it’ is.

We both knew there was an affinity between us from the get-go and chatted for ages about everything imaginable; the state of the world economy, movies we liked, arts we were into, our respective backgrounds, little flirting probes at each other’s sexuality; that metal dance you do when you meet someone you instinctively fancy for the first time. Leah told me she was a lawyer, originally from Boston, said she’d studied Law at Yale and had worked her way up in a firm specializing in intellectual property rights, here, in San

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