open for all four of your trucks to get through.”
“Thanks Bro, we'll probably be back before your shift even ends, ” Shotgun said, rolling up the window and driving out the gates. The other vehicles followed, parting ways at the end of the block.
After shedding himself from his rut of self-pity, Dave swung open the door to the Crazy Horse Saloon and sauntered inside. A mode rate level of foolishness at how dejected he had been at the park washed over him. Thankful that he had been alone in the park, Dave would have consequentially been humiliated had he verbalized those thoughts to anyone.
“Hey Dave. Glad to see you made it back without melting. I guess the devil is going to stay home today… The news is saying it’s about four degrees hotter than hell in Port Steward,” Garrison teased from behind the bar, filling a glass with water. “Have some water, cool off.”
Dave ginned at his pal, taking a seat on the least worn barstool at the counter. The bar open ed for business hours ago, but Dave was Garrison’s only patron. This place had a bleak element to it by the light of day, dingy and dated. The unfinished-wood floor had been swept and rickety chairs were down and around the tables.
Since taking over this bar from his father, Garrison hadn’t sunk a penny into it. No upgrades and minimal repairs had been done by Garrison himself, even the bar counter—that everyone sees and fee ls, had lost all of its coating. The place had a gloomy essence to it during the day, almost spooky. There was something alluring about the dim evening lighting, neon signs in the window and the sound of music that just breathed life into this place at night.
Dave glanced up at the corner mounted, box-television broadcasting the news. The weather had just wrapped up, and then the anchor, Henry Lewis, began reporting about a flu shot clinic at the local lab. Angora. Dave knew the place. A towering building, located up by the bottleneck, near the interstate, its high walls made it seem conspicuously secretive. Angora had been a topic in the news almost daily over the past few weeks, reporting that their stocks had been extremely volatile lately. Down, then up, then down even further— who cares? On second thought, Dave supposed that many of the townspeople cared. Angora meant big business in this town, bringing in revenue and keeping quite a few locals employed. With the way that the economy has been lately, it’s no surprise that that even a big place like that would be impacted. Commercials about their advanced research and highly trained scientists curing diseases, and combating neurological disorders were so common that on some nights, bar goers would start their own drinking game centered around a the words Angora or future .
“Maybe we should head down and get our flu shots, they’re free,” Garrison said, wiping down the bar.
“That place is too institutional for me. Besides, it wrapped up a bit ago,” Dave said with a shrug, nodding at the television. “Thanks for the H2O, just what I needed. I’m going to head up and catch a snooze before my shift.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tormented by the punishing , pulsating in her head, Roxy hoped to fall asleep, so that she may awaken felling at least a little better. For some reason, her hearing had been hypersensitive today, which she attributed to the headache and possibly even the side effects of her flu shot. She even considered snatching Kate’s earmuffs to drown out some of the noise, but her body ached and she didn’t want to move if she didn’t have to. Sweat accumulated in on her face and neck, although her body felt relatively cold. The medicine she’d taken for the flu symptoms simply couldn’t relieve her fast enough.
Today had been the first time she’d been given a flu shot, and now, she was certain that it would be the last time she would receive one. Roxy has rarely been sick. While being a vegetarian has its benefits and drawbacks, it has taught her
“Thanks Bro, we'll probably be back before your shift even ends, ” Shotgun said, rolling up the window and driving out the gates. The other vehicles followed, parting ways at the end of the block.
After shedding himself from his rut of self-pity, Dave swung open the door to the Crazy Horse Saloon and sauntered inside. A mode rate level of foolishness at how dejected he had been at the park washed over him. Thankful that he had been alone in the park, Dave would have consequentially been humiliated had he verbalized those thoughts to anyone.
“Hey Dave. Glad to see you made it back without melting. I guess the devil is going to stay home today… The news is saying it’s about four degrees hotter than hell in Port Steward,” Garrison teased from behind the bar, filling a glass with water. “Have some water, cool off.”
Dave ginned at his pal, taking a seat on the least worn barstool at the counter. The bar open ed for business hours ago, but Dave was Garrison’s only patron. This place had a bleak element to it by the light of day, dingy and dated. The unfinished-wood floor had been swept and rickety chairs were down and around the tables.
Since taking over this bar from his father, Garrison hadn’t sunk a penny into it. No upgrades and minimal repairs had been done by Garrison himself, even the bar counter—that everyone sees and fee ls, had lost all of its coating. The place had a gloomy essence to it during the day, almost spooky. There was something alluring about the dim evening lighting, neon signs in the window and the sound of music that just breathed life into this place at night.
Dave glanced up at the corner mounted, box-television broadcasting the news. The weather had just wrapped up, and then the anchor, Henry Lewis, began reporting about a flu shot clinic at the local lab. Angora. Dave knew the place. A towering building, located up by the bottleneck, near the interstate, its high walls made it seem conspicuously secretive. Angora had been a topic in the news almost daily over the past few weeks, reporting that their stocks had been extremely volatile lately. Down, then up, then down even further— who cares? On second thought, Dave supposed that many of the townspeople cared. Angora meant big business in this town, bringing in revenue and keeping quite a few locals employed. With the way that the economy has been lately, it’s no surprise that that even a big place like that would be impacted. Commercials about their advanced research and highly trained scientists curing diseases, and combating neurological disorders were so common that on some nights, bar goers would start their own drinking game centered around a the words Angora or future .
“Maybe we should head down and get our flu shots, they’re free,” Garrison said, wiping down the bar.
“That place is too institutional for me. Besides, it wrapped up a bit ago,” Dave said with a shrug, nodding at the television. “Thanks for the H2O, just what I needed. I’m going to head up and catch a snooze before my shift.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tormented by the punishing , pulsating in her head, Roxy hoped to fall asleep, so that she may awaken felling at least a little better. For some reason, her hearing had been hypersensitive today, which she attributed to the headache and possibly even the side effects of her flu shot. She even considered snatching Kate’s earmuffs to drown out some of the noise, but her body ached and she didn’t want to move if she didn’t have to. Sweat accumulated in on her face and neck, although her body felt relatively cold. The medicine she’d taken for the flu symptoms simply couldn’t relieve her fast enough.
Today had been the first time she’d been given a flu shot, and now, she was certain that it would be the last time she would receive one. Roxy has rarely been sick. While being a vegetarian has its benefits and drawbacks, it has taught her
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