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Writing Prompt #248
“You’re a…a…”
“A werewolf.”
“And you didn’t tell me? That’s…that’s…Dude. That’s the coolest thing, why wouldn’t you tell me? I’m so pissed right now, holy shit.”
Eve’s Bar was always a place a little out of time. Founded in 1976, filled with antiques ranging from the early 1900s, all the way to 1999. There was nothing in the little drive bar from the two thousands, and if you asked, no one who worked there would give you a straight answer as to why.
One of the regulars, Liam, had bought a little digital photo display, and it was gone within the next week. No one knew what had happened to it when he asked.
The building was narrow, but deep. Colloquially known in town as “the toothpick”, Eve’s was housed in the basement, while the main floor had a coffee shop, and everything above first was apartments that seemingly never had any vacancy for new tenants.
In the left corner of the deepest part of Eve’s, a woman sat in a secluded booth. The dim lighting aged her, casting drastic shadows along her cheeks and nose and furrowed brow. The whiskey sour she was nursing while she waited for her company dripped condensation onto the weathered and worn table.
A man worked his way from the front of the bar, winding around the many tables and standing patrons under the yellow lights cast by the lamps throughout the room. He was dressed in all black formal wear, slacks and a dress shirt with a suit jacket on top. He placed at hand on the elbow of a waiter walking around the floor.
“Get me two whiskey sours to the booth in the back over there” he says, pointing over at the woman sitting alone.
“What kind of whiskey?”
“I don’t give a fuck, bottom shelf.”
The waiter gave a forced laugh at his crass answer and headed over to the bartender. The man went to sit with the woman.
“Viktor.”
“Ria”.
“I thought you’d still be at the visitation.” Ria says as she leans back, bringing her drink to her mouth and downing the rest of it.
“Nah, I was only there for around an hour, just to go around and shake everyone’s hand. I heard you didn’t show up at all apparently.” Viktor states this instead of questions, already sure of her behavior.
“Why should I show up? Just because we happen to be related to that fucking crackhead doesn’t mean I need to be there.” Ria moves her empty glass back and forth along the cracks and bumps in the table, adding a offbeat grinding noise to the din of the bar and the soft music playing off the jukebox.
“You know what everyone will say, you have to show up or they’re going to talk shit.” Viktor rubs his face, tired, while the waiter returns to the table with two glasses. Viktor pulls it close the second it’s put down, as does Ria.
“They can talk all the shit that they want, he was the one stupid enough to decide to try to kill someone for no goddamn reason.”
“Oh, as opposed to you, who has tried to kill someone for a very good reason?”
“Fuck entirely off, you stayed completely uninvolved in the situation until you could fucking benefit from it. Leo tried to kill a man just because he was gay and got shot for it. I did what I did because that bastard was going to kill our mother. ”
“Yeah, but I’m just saying it’s hypocritical of you to judge him when that could have been you. He’s dead anyways, no need to be pissed at him now that he’s gone.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill someone for wanting to fuck someone of the same sex! I was trying to defend our fucking mom! With no fucking help from you either, you were off with your goddamn friends like always, out of the loop like always, uninvolved like always!” Ria nearly tips her whiskey over as she flings her arms about, pissed as she emphasizes her point.
“Yeah, well, whatever. You know what I mean. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone or some shit, like the priest said today.” Viktor glances aside, unable to meet Ria’s eyes for a moment.
“Fuck off.” She says, sullenly, oncemore draining her glass as fast as possible. She waves down the waiter again, raising her empty glass.
“Fine, I won’t say anything else about the funeral since you’re that mad over it. I’m just saying, he was our cousin. Family is family.” Viktor also holds up his glass, gesturing for a refill along with Ria. The waiter spots the both of them, gives a thumbs up, and speeds off once more.
“No, blood is blood. Family is the motherfuckers I pick myself.”
“Then would you pick me?”
“Maybe if you took your head out of your ass from time to time.”
Viktor slouched, his chin in the palms of his hands, giving an overly forlorn expression to his older sister. “You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t. But you could stand to open your ears once in a while.”
“Maybe. How have you been lately? My ears are wide open now.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Same as usual. Work, home, work again. You?” Ria says flatly, rigid in her seat even in light of Viktor’s joking mood.
“Work, moving to the new house with Caroline. Hanging out with Paul and Ryan and all of them.” He shrugs. “Have you been seeing anyone since you broke up with Angel?”
“No, I don’t have the time and I’m too fucked in the head to be a good partner to someone right now.” Ria has now become the one avoiding eye contact, glaring down into her drink.
“Are those your words? Or Angel’s?”
“It doesn’t matter, they’re the right words regardless.”
“That sounds pretty lonely.”
“Who cares if I am, as long as I get everything done and I pay the bills.”
“Well, you’re not still lonely now that I’m here, right?” He says, hopeful.
“I’m gonna be fucking lonely regardless, you’ll leave again like you always do. I’ll take a little loneliness over trusting someone like Angel again anyways.” Ria finishes her drink once more, and abruptly stands.
“Are you leaving already? I just got here!”
“I need a cigarette, last I checked you stopped smoking them on account of your girl being pregnant, so I’ll be back in five, and you can sit here and order another round. Cover the tab too, you still owe me fifty from the last time you ran out of gas money.”
“That was three years ago!”
“So was college, but you still talk about it every day. Pay up or shut up, I’ll be back.” Ria walks out, leaving Viktor alone in the corner booth, empty glasses spaced along the little table.
Prompt 2390
“Are you still lonely when I’m here?”
“ I’m always a little lonely”
I hope so too, but hope can only get you halfway! Go and write! Then share it with others! Send it to a publishing company, it sappy and maybe a little repetitive but, you miss every opportunity you don’t take!
Another thing, don’t give up if one says no send it to another, and another! Don’t take no for an answer send your story’s to a hundred publishers if you need to!
If they still say no then become self punished! You don’t need them!
It’s sappy but I hope we all get published some day. We deserve it.