…And just as that uncreative title suggests, the following is an excerpt from a work-in-progress short story. If you dig it feel free to tell me why (or why not!) in the comments section- hopefully I’ll have the remainder posted soon!
It was dusk, and just as the feelings of utter disdain and cynicism had washed away mere hours prior he watched as the pub around him emptied. Not your average watering hole for sure- most places would just be picking up around this time. But not this one, and that’s exactly what he was counting on.
Jornado sat at his favorite corner booth, the one furthest from the bar, and proceeded in his nightly ritual. Before him sat a blank notebook, an ink pen, and half a mug of beer.
The idea that you can even write in such a place is laughable at best, sir.
That fucking voice.
As a matter of fact, the idea you can even write period is just beyond-
“Shut up. Shut up!” in the next booth over a few patrons whipped around at his sudden outburst- Jornado flushing a bright pink. “S-sorry…” he managed quietly before pointing at his phone. “Bad call.” The patrons exchanged confused glances before making their way out of the corner. Jornado glanced at his phone- it was off.
Feeling sheepish yet?
Flustered, his attention once again turned to the items placed before him.
Ah, the ritual…
Every night he attempted the same thing. Show up to his favorite spot, drink away the day prior, and write. But just like every other night only two of the items on that checklist were being completed.
Does it make you feel important, carrying on this charade?
“I can do this.” He made sure to keep this conversation quiet- after all, there were lingering patrons.
You say that, but we both know you don’t believe that. If experience is any kind of teacher…
“It’s just a block. Everyone goes through blocks.”
But like this? It’s been years, Jornado. You’ve lost yourself somewhere- do you realize this?
“I’m still here. I’m still me.”
Are you really though? How do you know this for sure?
“I…don’t…” Jornado thought for a moment. Did he know?
“Excuse me?” Chills ran down his spine. It was one of the patrons from earlier. He didn’t dare make eye contact. How long had she been standing there? “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been alone over here for a while… mind if I join you?” She inquired innocently. He didn’t dare make eye contact- embarrassment flooded his every thought. He began to tap his fingers on the pad before him, looking for any excuse to not look at her. After what felt like ages, he finally mustered a quiet response.