Closing Time

66.

I waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting.

The sense of being tied down had vanished without me noticing. The feeling had... grown to wrap around my arms. It crawled it's way over my chest and neck. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't even move around. My head was stuck facing forward, my body... I still couldn't see or feel my body. It felt like it was still there, but invisible.

The waiting didn't stop. Neither did the cold and hot sensations. They rose over my head, covering either side of my face. It felt like another piece of nostalgia in this weird trip I was on. Standing in front of Lou and Mike while they bickered and threw their essences at insults at each other. It felt like an intensified version of that.

I missed them.

It was... very quiet here.

I couldn't even speak. In the most literal sense of it, I was a statue.

Even trying to sleep wasn't possible. My eyes wouldn't close. I was stuck here in this eternal mind palace that was my old bar.

Maybe this was hell.

Loneliness is it's own form of torture after all. And if it's not the loneliness, being stuck, physically and mentally is.

There was a word for a middle ground, wasn't there? Some place between living and death. Is this it?

Pur... Purgatory?

If it is, it is rather boring.

I would say there are worse places to be, however I haven't seen them yet. I'm not sure if I want to. It would get me out of here. But I'd rather not be stuck in a worse version of this.

Or maybe it'd just stay the same.

The same bar. But fire and brimstone all around. Everything on fire. Glowing red embers and used charcoal. Smoke lining the ceilings with that weird crackling sound fire made. Something that warm, hot, sweltering... it would require a nice drink.

A highball glass filled with ice cubes. Some nice cool colours. A splash of blueberry syrup at the bottom. The rest filled with a mix of vodka, maybe some sweet soda. A sprig of mint at the top for a little colour. I could imagine the colour gradient. The dark blue slightly diluted by the clear liquor, and then turning clear and carbonated on the way up. The green leaf resting on the clear ice cubes floating on the top beside a straw... maybe a stirrer?

It's such a pretty drink. Maybe a different glass? No. No other glass would suit the colours.

Ah, but what if I had the wrong idea of hell? And it was just... hellishly cold? Hah, nice one, me.

Hmm... coffee. Irish coffee. Strong espresso, some Irish cre- no, Amaretto? Grand Marnier? Kahlúa? No, think sweeter. Chocolate liqueur... maybe butterscotch schnapps? That's what I need the espresso for. To balance out the sweetness from those two.

If it's cold and freezing, I might not have a lot of movement left in my fingers. The simplest drink for warmth... Brandy.

There's really nothing like warm water with a snifter of brandy to soothe the throat, get rid of the shivers. It sounds amazing.

It reminds me of this one drink a coworker once made. She'd used a jug of store-bought apple cider- warmed it, and spiked it with caramel infused vodka. It was so good. I'd made it for myself quite a few times after but I'd forgotten about it. It's been a while. I have to make some of that.

Hadn't I also promised Mike a hot chocolate? What would he like? Was he was a small marshmallows guy? Or maybe liked big marshmallows. A ton of whipped cream and some chocolate shavings. But he's a bit of a no-nonsense guy, so maybe no whipped cream. He'd want to get straight into the drink. His alcohol of choice was tequila after all.