Creative Writing: Shiny Sun Bar

"By no means am I here to do such a thing. I've come with a request and wish for your group to listen." I explain.

"But I believe I was right sir. I did my job. And I will not

She sighed quietly, allows her unneeded lungs to take in the fresh, cool air that she also does not require. Serenity. That’s what she felt that night. Sincere relief.

Since he did not frequent bars and was not sure which one might be tolerable, on his walk home from work, he marched into the first watering hole he spotted in a strip mall. He hadn’t noticed the name of the place, but once inside, the dim light, tacky floors, and funk of stale beer made it clear this was not an upscale establishment, but it was too late to turn around. Besides, did it really matter where he swilled tequila?

“Well I hope that you’ve learned your lesson and that you won’t do it anymore” the cop said.

Axel’s eyebrows furrowed before he took in the picture she was looking at. A grin tugged at his lips.

“What’s got you back in town Russell? You plan on getting tanked again?” questioned Earl, the bartender in a gravely voice. He was a sly old man with wizened gray hair and jaded sapphire eyes that held a glint of mischievousness. His gnarled fingers moved with experience as he set the drink on the bar.

The bar was cluttered and messed with shot glasses and beer bottles, most of which that dripped onto the surface of the counter. Carvings surrounded the bar; produced by previous customers and drunkies. Behind the bar stood the bartender, a short, stocky, middle-aged man who wore a deep frown just below his handlebar mustache. Just one look at the man, one could see a great loneliness beneath the hardened exterior of the man. It seemed almost as though he had lost something very dear to him, yet it was hard to tell what.

intake of breath and made a slow, gentle whistle as he exhaled. He smiled, as he gazed at the image on

But no matter what the nation’s state of affairs, the drunken man lay asleep, sprawled out in front of Tregor’s bar. The rain-drenched day turned into a soaked filled night, yet the drunk lay unaware. Pounded by the splashing rain finally got his attention and he opened his eyes to discover the darkness of the cold and dankness night, but he was too drunk to notice or even care. Pulling himself up from the watery bed, he drank rapidly from an empty bottle.

I again see another light that was almost yellow, a forty year old male from Los Angeles California, Nick Harding. He was an attractive person, with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. Though he looked ten years younger than he actually was, the signs of his age could be seen. Through the few grey hairs near the temples, and the few wrinkles around his eyes and smile. Nick was the kind of person you would see in GQ magazine, sophisticated, and classy, yet masculine and rugged. A dangerously sexy combination. He was in a bedroom sitting on a bed, alone, I smiled a mischievous smile as I hoped he would soon start removing some

Arms sagging, Bill, a pharmacist, laid sprawled out on the sofa. After the long night of drinking, the clothes that once covered his body were thrown about the room. Before the sun began to rise over the hills, his eyes leisurely opened. Harassed by the humming of the furnace that sat opposite of him, he threw a half dranken bottle towards the machine, but it grievously missed. A morose look came across his face after the bottle shattered against the wall; however, his eyes began to shut once again.

“I do not condone what happened and you understand why you were sent immediately to me don’t you, Sato?” Yongrui asked in his authoritative tone.

Inside of the place, the light was from torches that were semiotic arranged on the walls. There were seven tables with 6 chairs in each table and a counter in the final of the place. All the tables were full, all muscular men. All tables had beers, the place had the smell of men sweat and alcohol. Hatsumi sat at the counter in front of the tavern owner, a huge muscular man. He was also bald and had a light dark skin. At that moment he was cleaning one glass, not much time later one man come and sat next to her. “Give me an apple Juice” - The newcomer said to the owner. The owner repeated what the man said and wasn’t sure what he listened. The man just said “I’m trying to save some money now”. The man drank the juice too fast so he choked. At the same time Hatsumi said “Give me some alcohol! This is what a true adventure should drink!” the owner smiled and gave her the drink. “The weak must

It is six thirty in the evening. I walk into a pub on Madison Avenue, shutting the door behind and plunging into a blur of blissful silence. The pub is mostly deserted, except for an old man with ears pointier than my own nose. He is reading a paper and frowning, and he oddly reminds me of Yoda. He turns to me, smiles and nods in acknowledgement, before hopping down from the stool and hobbling out into the evening. And then there is the bartender whose real name is Andy, but I call him the bartender who does not drink. See, he had stopped drinking, albeit temporarily, back in May.