A Shuttle to Nowheresville, Part 1, May 12, 2012

The doors swung open, and the place fell quiet. He slowly made his way over to the bar, settling onto one too of the many creaky bars stools. People whispered, afraid of upsetting the man.

            “Give me the usual.” His voice sounded like the grating of gravel. He pulled a knife, and plunged it into the bar.

He slowly chugged the amber liquid in the glass and slammed the glass down on the wooded counter. He wiped his scruffy chin with the back of his hand as he stood, stretched, and walked out into the blazing sun and swirling wind.