I’m standing looking at the last place on earth I want to go. An old bar sits between two apartment buildings looking disconcerting. The inside is packed to the gills with people . And a whole slew of other creatures. The bronze etched glass reads The Red Gnome but don’t let the whimsical name fool you. It’s nothing more then a lair to some of the fiercest Fae in Brooklyn. Since it has opened it has amassed various local awards including a full page write up in the New York Times. Anyone who is anyone has been to The Red Gnome. It is the the hottest spot in Brooklyn and one of the top ten bars in New York. Which is precisely the reason no one notices when a few people go missing. But people don’t just go missing; they’re erased. Peoples memories of them, the photos with them, all evidence that they had ever existed disappears.
A year ago I got a call from a woman as it was happening. At first the phone was quite with only the sound of people talking over each other. But then came a soft voice “Jared..,” she whispered “ I’m, at The Red Gnome.”
I knew the voice but couldn’t place it. I felt like I should know it. How could I not know who this woman was. A lump started to form in my throat. “Who is this?” I asked hoarsely.
She started crying “ I don’;t know. Don’t you know who I am?”
And that’s when I looked at the photo of me and my parents at NYU. Only there was a woman with her arms around me smiling at me. A woman I had never seen. Or maybe I had seen her but why was she hugging me. Who was this woman in the picture. More improtantly who is this woman on the phone. “Sorry I don’t…” I stuttered as the woman in the photo slowly started to vanish “I don’t know who you are.”
“Jared, I…” she said as the people in the background slowly quieted “I love…you.” the words evaporating.
“I love you too,” I said shocked by my own words. But somehow I knew they were true as the phone disconnected leaving me standing there feeling like I had just lost something with only the dial tone to keep me company.
Now after a year of searching for answers I am finally ready to take the next step. But looking at the well lit bar the hopelessness sets in. The things that run that bar aren’t even human. How am I going to get answers. But just as I was thinking of giving up I spot the in I was looking for; a tattered sign reads Now Hiring- Grill cook. Slowly I make the short distance across the street taking a deep breath as I enter crowed bar. I quickly reach the bar. When a large balding man with a fiery beard and a glint in his eyes asks “What ya drinking?”
“I don’t drink. I’m here about the job.”
“What’s that you say; you don’t drink,” letting loose a thunderous laugh. “ You disabled or just retarded.”
“No, just looking for work.” I said
“Your the first person to apply. Everyone else is too busy having a good time,” he said taking a shot of some strange purple liquid. “ I’m Fern,” daring me to comment before letting out another gut wrenching laugh “ You hired as long as you can make our special; The Sequel.”
“ I’m Jared,” I said holding out my hand “But what the hell is The Sequel,” I asked while Fern’s monstrous hand shook mine.
“Double beef patty with two slices of American and Swiss. With our famous horseradish sauce. Its a local favorite,” he said proudly scratching his beard.
“I think I could manage.”
“Good then. You’re hired,” he said with a wide grin
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I wrote this as part of a writing prompt at Creative Copy Challenge . The bold words were the ones in the prompt. - It may be a little rough but it was all for practice.
2 comments:
Dude! I love your writing style! And just so you know, you tell one helluva story. I really enjoyed it! Which is the first thing I look for in any story. :D
Thanks glad you liked it. Writing prompts are great practice.
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