Neverland

Someone in the bar spoke up.
I did not hear what they said. – I suppose it must have been an admonition – a call to pipe down, shut up.

I looked round but there were only a couple of surly-faced drunks. The barman, had he been human, would have stopped polishing the glasses…

The client paid for my drink; we walked out the bar into the car port.

Dawn was edging out night, as we drove among the nylon pines.

The rich may have populated this Neverland with their villas and tennis courts – filled it with their unspoken crimes. Here, you cannot escape the eerie sense of make believe, and confection.