[30] “Ominous” prompt Inktober2020

Bar was filled with people, music played like mad… I was absolutely into all the jazz and old rock’n’roll that was played on vinyl.
Owner was a great chap, with the very artistic, musical soul. He loved telling tales of the great gigs he visited, or how he met those musicians, how he hung out with cool music makers, all while there was weed, drinks, drugs, girls and music, music, music…
I could listen to him endlessly, really. He always had a great story. And the odd part – he had these old photos to support it. All that’s done from those oldie film cameras. Oh, he loves those old film cameras. I have seen him with his old thing on the streets sometimes – taking some photos.
I’m sure one day he’ll host an exhibition of his works. Fantastic man.

But why I’m here so often? Why do I kill day after day in here..? More like each evening that grows into the night…
I just love the place… I’d love to lie with that, but actually – it just makes me feel like I’m not alone. Like I have someone around. Just like a familiar buzz, that TV playing on the background, as is for some, but I need actual people around. So I keep it together, so I don’t freak out.
And once I’m well into drinks and feeling light, I can get home and go straight to bed and sleep. The kind of sleep that smacks you silly once you lie down. The paralysing kind, the vicious and deep, endless, merciless, heavy and very hard to wake up from.

But I manage to wake up each morning to my alarm clock, get up, wash up, then take train and get to work. And then from 7 in the morning it all begins – the endless calls, papers, people, problems, projects, directors, customers, explanations, covers, coffee, work, work, work…
And then I take the train back home. As I manage to get out, I walk straight to the bar. And kill time in there again and again and again… It’s like smoking the cigarette in a never ending cycle. With a chopped selection of food and beer that runs endlessly.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to make it to tomorrow… Or if I’ll forever get stuck in a limbo… Or maybe I am in a limbo and all the people and things around are fake, are pre-programmed… And I get anxious, I get worried for all there is and is not in the world… I see things lurking behind my window, if I am home too early, or I am not drunk enough to fall asleep fast. And each time that thing, that shadow – it gets closer.

Another day in the bar, familiar vinyl plays the music… I drink my lucky beer and look at the bar…
“I think you’ve gone too far. You won’t come back…”
Says the voice and I turn around to look – no one.
“I think you’ll end up here forever…”
I see nobody speaking to me.
“You’ve sold your soul, sweetie…”
I look behind bar – the lady in waiters clothes.
“Yes, you’ve got in too far, truth be told. I wished for you to not be cold. But here you are day after day, your life sold to us on a forever stay…”
It was her that said those things to me…
I tap a man next to me on a shoulder:
“Do you see her, you see?”
The man looks at me, then in her direction.
“There’s nobody.” – He laughs, – “You’ve lost the connection.”
I freeze. She’s still there. And they say they don’t see her.
“Yes,” – She nods. – “You’ll also stay here. You’ve already killed all your odds.”

Walk home should be easy. Or so I thought after that. I felt goddamn queasy and still world fell apart. I went to bed, I fell asleep… I woke up in bar.
“You see, I told you so, you’ll forever be our part…” – She smiled and tapped shoulder, then pushed me to bar. – “Come on, work needs be done…”

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