Pink

Bacardi and Coke, an unusual choice, but not one I disapproved of. He held it between both hands, grasping it like a baby with a bottle. Without raising his head to look at me, he cleared his throat finally.
'What the hell is happening to me?'
'All in good time boy. First, finish your drink. It will help.' As if to set an example, I downed the rest of mine. With a flick of my wrist the empty glass was travelling down the bar, into the waiting hand of Tina.
Tina has been the barmaid at the Rowers Inn since before I could remember. That in itself suggests that she was not altogether normal. When I first came here, she looked muchthe same as now, except for the pink tinges at the end of her jet black fringe. She adjusted to the change in fashions more aptly than any of our kind I had met before.
As if to justify this train of thought I was snapped back to reality by the popping noise of the bubblegum in her mouth plastering itself to her chin. She looked up at me and smiled sheepishly before scraping at the strands with black painted nails. 'Can a' getcha anotha bub?'
Tina was also a master of local dialects. Cockney was merely the latest in a long train of accents I'd had to endure as we followed the summons.
'Please.' I smiled courtiously back at her before turning my attention to the still startled young boy.
'You got a name, son?'
'D-D-D-David'
'Well, David,' With a sence of smug satisfaction I smiled inwardly and his look of awe as my hand shot out across the bar to receive my fast travelling bourbon. My eyes neverleft his. 'I suppose I had better show you around. Bring your drink boy.' I stood up slowly, allowing the creases in my ankle length coat to fall out. 'You'll likely need it.'

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.'