The Lost PoetMature

Bar equals drinking time. For Pious this means peaceful solitude. At the back, in the corner, he smokes like a chimney and drinks like a fish. Pisses his money up the wall on his dirty dealings and habits. Don't judge because this is how he makes a living and no-one can do it better.

He slumps in his special chair. The leather has decided to warm to his boney arse. He crosses his legs, slaps his ten pack on the table, pulls one out, sparks it and starts puffing. His thins arms stretches out and he rotates his glass of Jack Daniels and coke. He tips it to measure the amount left. Pious studies the glass, examines it. The light the comes in on it, giving it that perfect hint of light green. He twirls the glass at fourty degrees, watching the dark liquid swirl, jump at the edges like a tidal wave being restricted by purposeful walls. He does not want this fine beverage to spill, he just wants to toy with it, test it, dare it to try and spill on him. Push everything to its boundaries. Then he smirks, stamps the glass back firmly in its place on his table, then he makes his move and takes a quick swig. He exhales in hard and relaxes.


The bar tender is facing him, on the far side of the room. He respects him. Johnny his name is. "Stones, another usual please, Sir."

"Alright then, Pious."

A girl working next to him, gave the slightest tut and then carried on serving her customer.  Pious was the only one who called him Stones, none of the others knew in God knows why. Maybe they just thought he just found a sudden ring to it. But Pious had his eccentric ways. He would never smoke the last cigarrette in his packet, instead he would hoard it in his drawer, in his den. He must have a few hundred of them hanging around in the rusty, dirty old drawer, but he never smoked them. He would use them as a keepsake, for what I am not exactly sure. But when you got to know Pious they way I do, you would understand. He would take beer mats and just for the sake of it fling them to the floor in front of unaware customers, who walked past. They would just grunt or mutter the odd obscenity and just walk on.   


I won't tell you more about Pious, I guess that is you to find out. But my journey into adulthood started with him. Out of all of the people it was him.  

The End

2 comments about this story Feed