Night after night, the bar’s neon sign drags me back like an umbilical cord.
I gaze out of the window as an old man zig-zags across the road, oblivious to the mob of traffic. The barman licks his lips and his eyes glitter and glow with each near miss.
Home
Paul D. Brazill
Nice piece of micro fiction, Paul.
Damn, some bars are like the womb! Good analogy – I also liked the descriptions of the bar tender.
Paul, you pack just as much value into a few words as you do your longer work. I am a big fan. Great piece!
Paul, that first line is dynamite.