I shouldve done something
its all my fault its all my fault no i refuse to take the burden of a life that I barely impacted
the gift I sent, I hoped they liked it even if now
it was a pair of crystal candlesticks, each cut so they always seemed to sparkle and shift with the light
but Im glad I didnt go to the wedding. I couldn't have faced myself in the aftermath.
The third person of note from the bar. Doc, the bartender, owner and operator. Doc fought in Nam, or so he claims. He says he's been haunted ever since the days of heavy fighting in the undergrowth, and that worse things than HIM lurk in the hearts of men. He wasn't fazed at all when the tall Spectere the locals called in whispered tounges the white man, or as he says they say in the native tounge, "trang nagooey dan ong" followed him home from the war. He thought it was just another form of PTSD and ignored it for years until he encountered other people who had seen him as well. Then he reckoned that if this was real, and a lot of people were impacted, a little place for them to drink and relax in each others company might not be a bad idea, maybe even let out some rooms. So he turned his parents tennament into a little Bar and hotel and settled into the routine of a barkeep for the next 30 years. He says that The White Man has left him alone, for the most part ever since. He's not been moved touched or harassed in a long time, though he reckons its cause he lets folks like me and barry in.
Have I talked about barry before of maybe I should I gotta distr
Barry is this dude, you know, that dresses like some douchebag from the 1820's or something or some mideval noble and uses scenes from Poe works as his modus operandi. He's often in the bar with me, because as far as I can tell he doesnt get much work because of his low sucess rate.
So I'm Drinking heavily last night trying to forget that I am what I am when I see barry stroll in. He takes a seat next to me at the bar and starts talking about the job and his buisness.
Barry likes to try to slip things into peoples food, and then wall them into buildings. Or else wear a fucking carnival mask and pretend he's Red Death and then tackle the target. Yeah hes a tackler.
And hes telling me all about the trials of bricking someone into a wall and how long it takes but how fortunate he is that his job as a mason (I didnt know masonry was still a thing) was so helpful and
of fuck I cant do this right now
THE CURTAINS ARE DOWN.