Flash fiction: Tired (The bar #18)

Another night, Andrew and Paul sat by one of the tables counting the money from the night.

The bartender was cleaning the bar, polishing the glasses and putting everything in its correct place.

Jean was there too. Not because she needed to be, but she wanted the company.

Andrew understood her; it had to be hard for Jean to care for her mother, knowing that she will never get better. Only worse.

Neither of them was talking. They were all too tired to talk. Jean had spoken for a while after closing, but she was also getting tired.

Once the counting was done, Paul took it into the back room and locked the money in the safe. Andrew and Jean stayed at the table and looked at their drinks.

The bartender walked over and tried talking but soon noticed that neither of them was in the mood to talk.

The was going well, too well. Andrew couldn’t believe the previous owner had sold it to them for such a low price.

The place was a gold mine.

”What do you say that we call it a night?” The bartender asked.

”Sounds good” Andrew answered.

”I say we get another drink to celebrate another good week,” Paul said as he came into the room.

”I’ll pass,” Andrew said.

”Me too” The bartender was already heading out the door when he answered.

”What about you Jean?” Paul asked her.

”I guess I can stay for one more,” She said with a smile.

”See you guys tomorrow,” Andrew said and walked up the stairs to his room.

Behind him, he could hear Paul and Jean laughing.

He was happy the two of them had found each other again.

They deserved it.

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

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