Prologue
378 Words
PROLOGUE
The smoky haze of the bar clung to me like a second skin, the air thick with the scent of spilled whiskey and stale cigarettes.
Worn wooden booths, their red vinyl cracked and faded, lined the walls.
A lone bartender, a woman with a mane of silver hair and a knowing smile who'd seen it all, polished a glass behind a counter cluttered with countless dusty liquor bottles.
In the corner, a mournful melody drifted from a forgotten jukebox, the saxophone's wail echoing through the cavernous space.
I nursed a glass of amber liquid, the ice clinking softly with each tremor in my hand. The harsh liquor burned a welcome fire down my throat, momentarily numbing my entire system.
Lost in the swirling depths of my thoughts, I was a million miles away from the smoky haze and the murmur of conversations that filled the air.
A sudden cough jolted me back to reality.
I looked up to see an elderly man, his face a roadmap of wrinkles, hovering by my booth.
His eyes, twinkling with a mischievous glint, held a hint of inquiry.
Beside him stood a broad-shouldered man with a shaved head and a posture that screamed military discipline.
"Mind if I join you for a drink, miss?" The older man asked, his voice raspy from years of laughter and cigarettes.
"Seems a bit lonely over here."
Before I could formulate a response, the ex-military man's gaze landed on my wrist.
His eyes widened in a flash of recognition, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing his features.
He grabbed the older man's arm, his voice a low growl.
"Harold, stand down. You didn't see...?"
The older man followed his colleague's intense stare, finally seeing something peeking out from beneath the cuff of my sleeve.
Recognition dawned on him too, replacing his initial joviality with a solemn reverence.
"My apologies," He mumbled, bowing his head slightly.
"We didn't realize... Thank you for your undying service."
Confusion and curiosity battled within me.
The abrupt shift in their demeanor, the way their jovialness had morphed into a respectful distance, left me bewildered.
My voice, rough from disuse, finally managed a reply.
"No worries." I said, a hint of amusement creeping into my tone.
Bastards.
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A.
- Writer
