Only jazz

Every evening here is wrapped in the languid magic of jazz and new encounters—some romantic, others monotonously formal.

Meet Alexa; she works here. Each night, she is swept up in a whirlwind of events, temptations, and sensations. She herself even becomes that very whirlwind…

Hey, darling, are you lost? No? Then why did that flicker of doubt flash in your eyes?

Yes, she already knows: when the auditorium empties, that prickly void will inevitably arise within her too. So why do some of us keep believing in artificial worlds, while others insist on creating them?

The lights go out. Only a slender thread of smoke draws pale outlines in the air. Then even that fades away.