The local bar

[Marcus Aurelius]

All I wanted was a drink.
I tell the cabbie to pull over to the open curb a few feet from a local bar. What could be simpler.
I glance at the time. Enough left to get hammered. She speaks the fare and her hand goes up. I stuff double the amount into her calloused hand and she gives me her card. “Open all night” She says with a smile. Stepping out of the car I feel the drizzle on my hat. A cold mist hits my ear. I stand and pull up my collar. It's now I wish I still smoked. All the while making a mental note so I can remember this is what sober feels like. A young couple runs into the joint. “F'n kids” I mutter to myself. But I smile anyway.

When you walk into someone elses bar you never know what to expect.
More so when you are alone.
These days I no longer care.
The warm stale air hits my face.


I find a seat at the bar.
Before the barmaid asks I shout my order. “And keep them coming.”
The mood at the place is surprisingly upbeat.


I believe I have stared at the decor and the help a bit too much when she asks me a bit too loudly if I want another.
I nod and dangle the glass.
When the music is low she asks me something.
I look up and think, she has the prettiest smile.
Of course I tell myself I cannot tell her what she has heard a thousand times already.
I'm “Old” of course you know.
I smile and mouth, “I'm sorry I can't hear you.”
Her fingers touch my hand and she pours me another with a smile.
“On the house.” She mouths.


They say life flashes before your eyes when you die.
My life flashes all the time my friends.
I stand and make my way to the men's room.
I take it slow so as not to weave too much.
“Here we are again.” I think. I steady myself with one hand and shake with the other.
It sucks but the mental pain helps me remember.


I close my eyes and remember when she first talked in her sleep.
She spoke of her love you know. He was the very stars others saw in her eyes.
The sky in her world was the brightest blue.
Fields of flowing green.
At times I could see the smile she bore in her sleep.


When I heard her softly speak my name I knew I was the luckiest man that ever lived.
I would hold her warm hand and kiss her brow.
She was my everything.
Everything.

[Irish14]

Beautiful Marcus.. Beautiful.

[Marcus Aurelius]

Peter De Vries;
“Sometimes I write drunk and revise sober, and sometimes I write sober and revise drunk. But you have both elements in creation – the Apollonian and the Dionysian, or spontaneity and restraint, emotion and discipline.”

[livn2do]

Marcus, you are very gifted at weaving words together to paint a picture. Of course you already know that. Some people like to write, others are writers. I could see the scene playing out in my head as I read it because you are a writer.

L-

Ernest Hemingway
"Write drunk, edit sober

[Marcus Aurelius]

Thank you sir. That means a lot to me.

[Irish14]

We all need to visit the Neon Cathedral from time to time....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKTQexLS9wE