His face scrunched up and the cold pinched his newly shaven face as he looked over the full lot to the tall, somewhat ornate building with its theater marquee and unused ticket booth. In its beginnings, Gateways had been a burlesque theater sandwiched between a brothel and slaughterhouses until a fire in the late ’50s burned down the entire block but for the theater. Housing remained several blocks away, but new fire codes and NIMBY neighbors had kept almost everything else out, chain-link fences and decades-long litigation over who owned the surrounding property making it a lonely place when the sun was up. Squinting, Cooper sniffed, a hint of excitement quickening his pace as he wove through the cars. There was already a line at the door. He was going to be pissed if this was a joke. Hands in his pockets, he walked with his head down, hunched and uncomfortable in his dress shoes that didn’t do a thing to stop the cold. His ears were frozen since he hadn’t wanted to put on a hat and risk putting a wave into his hair, still damp from his shower.
What do You think about Pet Shop Boys: A Short Story?
