What Happens Next? - The Real Tuesday Weld

The Cafe Anglais is oddly vacant

You sit at the bar and order a drink

You take out your pen and write down a name

On a currency note you leave as the tip

The door from the street is softly opened

Someone approaches and calls out your name

They pull out a gun and point at your head

You don’t move a muscle you’re sure that you’re dead

You knew that they’d find you

And now they have

You know we all need to know

What happens next.