The dark road extends in front of my vehicle, our destination undetermined. I eat the distance up with my bronco. The dark folds and unfolds allowing me to pass unchallenged. A light up a head slows my progress and when the light glows annoyingly bright a parking lot comes into view.
It is littered with older model vehicles, a mixture of cars and trucks but heavy on the trucks. The neon lights advertising different brands of beer, a bar. Nothing fancy but it has alcohol, which I greatly appreciate.
As I drive into the parking lot the sound of the crunching gravel beneath my tires battle with the music and other noises from the bar. The harp banging of the door interrupts the distant sounds of country music.
I turn my car off flooding the interior with light blinding me to the cause of the banging.
Sliding my I.D., a little cash and the key to my ford into my top before fluffing my hair, releasing it from the bonds of hat hair that has clung to it since the end of the ceremony.
I am over dressed but at this point I do not care.
My heels click against the uneven gravel. The rowdy bar music gets louder as I approach the front door. The night's natural melody is faint in the background but adds to the reverberation emanating from inside the building. The door looms before me, the noise level peaks when I open the door to step inside. As the door closes behind me, the one room bar falls silent as all eyes fall on me.
I drop my eyes to the saw dust covered floor and make my way to the bar. The chair is just a stool of finished wood, which doesn't look comfortable, but I am not going to find a table just to sit by myself. So I hop up and wait for the bartender to come over.
He has short dark brown hair close cropped to his scalp. His eyes are flirty and his t-shirt tight, everywhere, paired with broken in Levi's. Perfect eye candy for tonight.
"What can I get'cha?" he asks with a good ol' boy twang.
"Any kind of dark beer, please?" he looks kind of shocked but quickly sets about to accomplish his task. As he places the bottle in front of me a low rumble of an engine can be heard under the racket of the numerous other activities happening in the bar and through the thin walls of the bar.
The sound is a deep growl and it does not sound like a bike but what would I know, right?
YOU ARE READING
THE LOST CAUSE BAR #wattys2017
RomanceDelaney, a woman despairing over unreliable people, leaves everything behind for a night. Her sights are set on leaving the area but her dream, of owning and running something, might be more realistic than she thinks. The night becomes better than...
