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Late in the evening the rain poured down the busy city streets. Gallons of it were washing down into the drain pipes in the sewers, almost making it seem that it would flood in a matter of seconds. Cars honked at each other noisily, trying to get on with their own lives, impatient with what others had to think about. The streets were bustling about with people going about either direction, with one thing in mind in their heads. There was no care about who was around them, or what little glimpses of light may be around a corner.
The dimly lit bar was open during these hours. The deep haze was thick after walking through the second door, which was supposed to keep clean air out. However, due to a crack in the door, a breeze would often come into the heavy bar room. The crowd inside the bar was as thick headed as the haze looming around their heads.
He sat at the bar looking around, almost as if there was something or someone that was supposed to be there, but it had disappeared. His head heavy from the haze around him, was lowered, looking at the hard wood counter upon which the bartender was serving. The bartender looked down at the man from behind the glass, which protected the bartender from the haze around the bar.
So, will it be tea or a shot? The bar tender asked with a soothing smile, as if he were meeting an old friend again.
A young man, who was sitting next to the man, sneered at the question the question in his drunken state. Who the hell orders tea in a bar! he yells at the man as to mock the choice he was about to make.
The man looked upon the empty glass upon which the bartender was going to serve his drink in. Slowly as he began to close his eyes, he had a chill go throughout his spine, but it was as if he was touched by the sun, and relief was shining over him. He slowly opened his eyes the glass was filled with whiskey, and the youth next to him was gone. He looked up and saw that the glass was gone, which was separating the bartender from the rest of the bar, and the bar tender was connected to the rest of the haze of the bar. His hands became full of youth, however he could not let go of the glass of whiskey that was in front of him.
The warmth upon which the man felt was now right next to him. The warmth was a strange old man, but yet all the man felt now was coldness inside of him, and his head was also in the haze.
The usual bartender, the old man looked up with a gleam in his eyes.
You’re a kooky old man, you know that? the bartender shook his head in disbelief. Normally, nobody orders tea at a bar, but there’s something for everybody.
The man began to laugh, you are a kook! He holds onto the shot glass tightly, who the hell gets tea at a bar?
The old man waited for his tea to be done, and slowly looked over at the man, it helps to clear the mind of what is happening around me. What about you? The tea was placed in front of the old man, and he raised it towards the man, I’m sure your life is perfect, isn’t it?
You don’t know me, old man! the man laughed drunkenly and was a bit shaken. The man looked away solemnly. His hand shook a little, however it would not let go of the shot of whiskey.
The bartender became intrigued with the conversation the old man was about to have with the man. The bartender leaned up against the back counter, grabbing a glass and a towel in order to wipe the glass.
The old man took a sip of tea, leaned closer to the man, and touched his back. Now, why don’t you tell me your troubles and maybe I can help you out, friend, his smile was warm and sincere.
The man looked down at the whiskey. Remembering the past, his grip grew tighter around the glass. I had a little argument, our first argument, with my wife, and things became pretty bad around the house. She was mad, I got upset, and she just kicked me out, the man felt despair as he told about his life a couple days to this complete stranger, who seemed to be a complete kook, but felt as warm and soothing as a hammock he used to sleep in during a sunny day in summer. I was actually going to be a dad in a couple of weeks. The man chuckled as he picked the glass up to eye level as if to examine its contents.
The old man’s eyes were serious when the man was down cast, but light hearted as the man chuckled. You should go to her, the old man told the man as he took another sip of his warm tea.
The man almost spilt his whiskey. He quickly put it back on the counter, so it wouldn’t spill as easily. The bartender chuckled a little to himself at the old man and the man; it seemed as if they were an old couple. The bartender continued to clean the glass until it was almost as clear as a crystal gem.
The man turned quickly after putting his drink on the counter, still clenching with his hand. What!?! You must be crazy! There’s no way I could go back to her, the man shook his head in disbelief.
I’m sure she wants you by her side, even now; the old man continued to smile and looked at him joyously.
No. there’s no possible way, the man continued to shake his head in disbelief. His hand gripped tighter to the glass.
Come on, boy, she wants you. All you have to do is go to her, the old man with a pleasing smile continued to persuade the man to go to the man’s wife.
She doesn’t want me, dammit! The man yelled as tears began to run down his face. His hand, which was holding the shot of whiskey, began to shake violently.
The bartender was startled by the man’s reaction and wanted to get in more on the conversation. He leaned over the front counter, his head below the haze, with the same rag and glass, which was so clean that it almost could disappear from sight.
The old man soon stopped smiling, and stared at the sniveling man. He gently shook his head and took another sip of his tea. He placed his hand upon the quivering hand of the man.
Listen to me, the old man said.
The man looked up. What do you want? He asked angrily. Each of men was staring deep into each other’s eyes.
Do you love her? the old man asked.
What? the sniveling man asked as if he was hearing a foreign language for the first time.
Do. You. Love. Her? the old man repeated slowly as if he were talking to a child, amazed and perplexed by what the old man had just said.
Yeah. I’ve always loved her, the man said as he was whipping the tears from his face. From the moment I first saw her, to the times we’ve spent dating, to the day we were finally married, I was always in love with her. But, what does this have to do with anything? he asked with a quizzical look on his face as it looked at the seriousness of the old man’s eyes.
Well, the old man started as he took a sip from the tea, and looked at the man straight in the eyes. Had you loved her that long, I’m sure she must have had feelings in return. If she didn’t love you, would she have gone out with you? If she didn’t love you, would she have married you? If she didn’t love you, would you be having your child with her? She needs you at this time. She needs you to be with her. She needs you to love like you have always loved her. This is a crucial moment in both of your lives. Don’t let one argument end a precious relationship that you have. Trust me; I’ve seen too many couples who have been broken up a beautiful bond because of one stupid mistake in their relationship. So, go to her, right now, and show her how much you care and love her, the old man patted the man’s shoulder.
You, really think so? the man asked. A couple tears ran down the man’s face as the old man spoke to him.
The old man gave a graceful nod of assurance. I’m sure she does, the old man confirmed the man’s question.
The man looked at his glass of whiskey and back at the old man. The man took a deep breath under the haze, and he placed the glass on the counter, his hand letting go of the glass. Ok, I’m going. I’m going to show how much I care. The man stormed out of the room.
Don’t forget that whenever you get in a problem with your wife just remember how much have loved her! the old man shouted at the man as he left.
The bartender, leaning over the front counter with the rag and the invisible glass in either hand, stared in amazement at what the old man had done to change the man’s life. Well, I think it’s about time I put up something to clear the haze from back here, he chuckled to himself, but hadn’t notice that the old man was laughing with him.
The years passed and the man came back to the bar. He sat at the bar looking around, almost as if there was something or someone that was supposed to be there, but it had disappeared. The bartender looked down at the man from behind the glass.
So, will it be tea or a shot? The bar tender asked with a soothing smile, as if he were meeting an old friend again.
A young man, who was sitting next to the man, sneered at the question the question in his drunken state. Who the hell orders tea in a bar! he yells at the man as to mock the choice he was about to make.
The man looked upon the empty glass upon which the bartender was going to serve his drink in. With his decision, all would come together.
- by number XXI sora |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 06/09/2012 |
- Skip
- Title: LIttle Things
- Artist: number XXI sora
- Description: This is a short story project that my english teacher assigned for my junior year of high school (due date: June 2012). We had to right it like one of the stories we read, and give it the same title as the short story we based it off of (Hence, "Little Things". original written by Raymond Carver). We also had to insert ambiguity into the text. I hope you enjoy it!
- Date: 06/09/2012
- Tags: little things
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