Palm Fiction

It is very late at night. He knows it's wrong, that he shouldn't be here. It's not her place to be here. She walks up the garden path. She invites him for a drink and doubt turns to resignation as he slowly follows her. By the time he reaches the front door, she has disappeared, the big white door ajar in the still night. As he enters, he hears music and finds himself in front of a house only worthy of the Hollywood Hills.