apparition 2A Story by Woodyjust a scene in a bar where one gets to meet "interesting" people.Sean O’brian, S.O.B. to his friends, was sitting at the counter in his usual spot, the left hand-side corner. He liked to keep an eye on the door to the bar to watch who came in. He looked like a scholar with his dark rimmed glasses. He had a shock of mussed black hair, bulging eyes and a cleft chin. He sported a thin moustache which he tweaked whenever he was deep in thought. Harry, the bartender, was serving old Mrs. Simpson (her name’s not Marge, he asked her) at the far end of the counter. He used to be a biker in his younger days. He still carried the reminders of those bygone days. A luxuriant beard, an ear ring and a pot belly. Business was slack at ten
in the morning. There were three other patrons scattered in the room, nursing
their own drinks and watching a game on telly. Harry sauntered back
towards Sean. He leaned on the counter and said: “Penny for your thoughts.” “You know”, replied Sean, “I was reflecting on the staggering number of
people living on the face of Mother Earth.” “And?” said Harry, knitting his eyebrows. “Well, imagine there were no death. We’d be piled up on top of one
another. Let me tell you, death is the best thing that ever happened to Man.” “That’s deep, my friend.” “Yeah, as the bishop said to the actress.” Sean drained the last of his beer, smacked his lips and said: “Same again please, Harry”. As harry was drawing the beer, Sean told him: “Do you know that every time I breathe in and out someone dies somewhere
in the world?” Harry brings the beer and carefully places it on the beer mat. “Well”, said Harry, “why don’t you use a mouth wash?” then returned to
Mrs. Simpson who wanted more ice in her Gin and tonic. As he was laughing at a joke
Mrs. Simpson had just told him, the door was pushed open and in came an angel. The
pub seemed to light up. She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen; her golden hair
was flowing behind her and seemed to hang in the air. Incredibly, she seemed to
be walking in slow motion like they do it in some movies. You’re probably
familiar with that trick. She was wearing a flowery frock that left nothing to
the imagination. Time stopped. Even the TV went mute. All six mouths in the pub
were agape. Finally she reached the counter and blinded him with her smile. he had to shield his eyes. “Can I use the Ladies’,
please?” She asked in a mellifluous voice. Harry’s mind went blank. Was
she asking him to use the Ladies’? Hell! She could use the Gents’ as well, if
she wished. He managed to nod dumbly and point her towards the loo. She walked
away and all eyes, including Mrs. Simpson’s, were glued to her back. As the
door swang shut behind her,
the room darkened noticeably, the TV resumed its blaring and a collective sigh
was finally released.
Five minutes later, the
apparition materialized again. She leaned on the counter revealing a cleavage
that made poor Harry’s heart pound achingly. She put her hand to his beard and
cooed: “Are you the boss, darling?” He shook his head, no. He
couldn’t trust himself to talk. His mouth was dry and he felt hot. His eyes
threatened to pop out of their sockets. She kept twirling her fingers through his
beard, a smile playing on her full lips. “Could you be so sweet as to
take a message, honey?” She asked, all the time playing with his beard, left
side, right side, under the chin. “Yes”, he managed to croak. Her smile broadened and she
said: “Please tell him there’s no toilet paper in the ladies’.” © 2014 WoodyAuthor's Note
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9 Reviews Added on June 11, 2014 Last Updated on June 13, 2014 Tags: bar, beautiful girl, the ladies', beard, fun write AuthorWoodyMateur, Bizerte, TunisiaAboutok, time for an update I think. my old friends have come to know me pretty well, I trust so this is for the new comers. I'm a Tunisian 60-year-old teacher-cum-translator, book worm who enjoys writing.. more..Writing
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