Green

What do you think is below your feet at this very moment?
Below the carpet of your sitting room, under the concrete foundations and the mass of pipework.

Whatever you are thinking of now, I can assure you it's incorrect.

*


I sat at the bar, glass tumbler in hand, swirling my whiskey around the rocks. I knew he was here before the door even opened. I knew he would be waking up, and this is where they always go at first. A thousand times or more I've seen that gaunt look, the sheer desperation that
at this moment defined his whole demeanor.

He was handsome this one, in a way. His dirty blonde hair was stuck up all over the place, fused together in places by the same mud that appeared to be coating half his face. It did nothing to hide his eyes though, and I felt myself drawn to them like a moth to a flame. Piercing Green eyes.

Unusual, for one such as he.

He stood in the doorway, his emerald eyes darting back and forth until he saw me watching him.

'Come in won't you child? You're letting the warm air out.'

Hesitant, he took a step towards me, then another. The door clicked shut behind him, and I turned to the Barmaid.

'Get our friend a drink. He looks like he needs it.'