The Most Wanted Man in the World

My eyes focus on a golden glow of a glass of whiskey that’s far too much ice in it. The bartender didn’t want me falling around drunk which I think is a bit cheap of him considering this is my first drink. I raise my weary head to look at him through a thin veil of smoke, the barely perceptible monsters fading in and out of old cigarette smoke distorts his already porcine face. Beady eyes glaring at me as though he didn’t want customers in his dive of a bar.

My back aches and cracks as I sit up straight. Too much time leaning on the bar trying to gather my thoughts and gather the courage to venture into the open world. While I stretch my back out, I survey the bar to see if anything had changed during my deep introspection. I’m sat at the bar of a dive that can barely call itself a drinking establishment, yet for some reason this dive seems to attract all the kids of the area. As you try to look across the room, hideous monsters and spectral figures emerge from old cigarette remains and are illuminated by halogen lighting, Which doesn’t truly serve to illuminate but only make the shadows of the bar deeper which the occasional clarity of harsh light.

To my right there’s ugly couple who look like their fucking each other with their eyes and they’re not shy about it either, When I turn my back to look behind me there’s a man pale and gaunt as death, with his eyes fierce as hell itself holding a bunch of flowers. Flowers I thought, Why does a man so disgusting as him carry flowers?

This thought alone spurred me to leave as quickly as possible. I stand far too quickly and an alien screech draws every eye in the pub to me like a spotlight of a third world execution. I draw my coat around me and leave, the treacle floor trying to keep me stuck there under the glare of those I hate.

I breach the door and walk up a multitude of steps only to gaze at a dark orange sky dirty with sin and plagued with the blemishes of dark buildings. Darkness that used to be held by sky now only seeks refuge in alleyways, hiding from the all-pervasive tainted light of the city.

I take a left and walk down a barren street of mirrors, claiming that same amount of orange darkness that the sky reluctantly accepts. Bright flashes of light from my right only serve to make the surrounding darkness more perceptible and daunting to me. The countless numbers of people around me seem faceless as I continue home.