Stepping Walter Dunn

IX

"It's you, dear sir. My Frank. My Frank of Franks. The connoisseur of company, knight of delight, the Frank I saw ravage and pillage with an utter confidence, charisma and charm I never deemed possible," I inspired onto him.

"Step away young men. Allow my reciprocal guardian to show an uncommon hospitality; a round of drinks. And a second. Three, Frank says. Oh, and a fourth, do beware.
There you have it, men, and a true gent who pays his tab with respect, pride and dignity."

Then came the rivaling passion, an elixir with more proof and less to prove than the drink.

I watched and beckoned onto him, "Ah, that looming scent, so beautiful. Tis captivating, I see from the splendor and slight arousal in your eyes. She, sir, is a flower to be plucked and donned upon your lapel as a trophy would sit on top your mantel. She is a blossom in need of pollination, seasonal not, yet annual."

"And, of course, her, the woman in black - most mysterious," I quipped.

"And the lady in the green summer dress - out of place without a care. I dare call her a true rebel, a mixed blessing, I'm sure," An addendum or sorts.

"The white satin blouse, blue sash - voluptuous, need I say more." Was he listening?

"All of them, and the drink? Who do you impress? Do you make attempts at discrediting yourself, failing to be who you are? Do you even know? And if you don't, how would I?"

Frank was aware and not. Here and lost. Out of my grasp, yet who was I, but a voice, a sound, a vision, a momentary flash of light.

My name is Walter Dunn. His name is Frank. I hear The One.