The bar

The bar.

It’s a place where people go to have fun, others go there to forget about their lives or the week. And some, like Andrew goe there to remember all the good memories the place holds.

None really know how old this particular bar is, or who first opened it. Yet everyone in town seems to know exactly what has happened there.

And everyone loves it.

Andrew was just a normal guy. He went to the bar every single day after work to have fun and catch up with old friends who did the same thing.

It was a place for them to talk about all the things which they never had the time to talk about. All the things they wanted to say but none wanted to listen.

At the bar, there was always someone who would listen to them.

It was a place which felt more like home than anything else they knew.

Some people even thought of it as more of a home than their own houses or apartments.

On this particular night, Andrew was sitting at the counter talking to the bartender.

They were the only ones there.

Very few people dared to face the winter storm to get there. Andrew, however, lived there. On the second floor.

It was an old room which he had renovated as soon as the owner had told him about it.

Then he had moved in. Now he didn’t have to decide whether to go home or to go to the bar every night.

Andrew was happy there. And he didn’t want to be anywhere else on a night like this one.

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Categories: flash fiction, The barTags: , , , , , ,

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