Friday, 4 July 2014

Response 1: At Sharky's Bar



The neon streets glistened as I made my way to Sharky’s that night, but no amount of rain can wash the filth from this stinking town. My usual shot was already waiting on the bar, and I pushed through the lowlife and the smoke and the sneering broads.

Sharky gave me that look, the one he gives when he knows I’ve gone too far. I took the whisky down in one. It wrenched at my empty guts but it would take more than hard liquor to erase the memory of what I had done. Guys jostled and packed around as I signalled for another glass of oblivion.

A tall man in a raincoat nodded a greeting and grunted “Hey Sam”. He never was one for conversation.

“A’right Dave? I told your Maureen that you’re round at ours babysitting the kids. Perfect alibi to watch the match, eh? Up the Villa!”

1 comment:

  1. This story really made me LOL! Love the build up actually thought a crime had been committed... well football, close enough!

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