Conventional wisdom has it that by increasing the pressure on a subject population, the amount of aberrant behavior increases. This is a little story about six or seven people involved in an incident that took place the night before New Year's Eve on the north end of an apartment complex in Dallas after a norther slammed into the place. There aren't many characters; their names are obviously fictional; and some are constructs. But never doubt, gentle reader, that the events recounted in my little piece are factual. Some of my characters bear a curious similarilty to the leads in "Casablanca" an older disillusioned and demoralized vet from some not-quite forgotten war in love with a younger woman he can't have; a heroine being pursued by dark forces who brings the vet out of his shell; and a cynical police official, damaged in the same war, who shared with "Louie" a weakness for using his authority to advance his romantic interests. But that's where the similarities end. For Bogart and Bergman try Dashiell Hammett's Nick Charles, with Nora as a dancer at a local hot spot. And the heroine of my story is no Hollywood stereotype She stands on her own feet, alone (and has probably been there a little too long), takes her clothes off for a living and can come at you with claws. And the cop doesn't become lovable in the final scene. With those "minor" exceptions, it is "still the same old story," although mine is not as long. I hope you like it.