BURN MARKS

I

England 1926

It wasn't exactly warm as I walked through the various streets. It looks relatively gloomy if you take a closer look at the whole area, smoke is rising from the chimneys everywhere, people are walking along the streets, some women are pushing a stroller in front of them.

And what's particularly noticeable here is that many different men wear the same gray, flat cap.

My gaze scans the various buildings that surround me, many of the houses look old and abandoned, although you could see a small light or even a person in every window. However, my eyes were only looking for one thing. A bar.

I was thirsty, yes definitely, but definitely not for something non-alcoholic. I wanted to shoot my head off here and now, but I didn't want to get any dirtier, so I have to have a glass of whiskey in my hand right now.

I look around the small town one more time and finally my eyes find it, just a few meters in front of me is something that looks very similar to a pub.

My tired feet carry me to the entrance.

"The Garrison"

It's actually a bar, my eyes didn't deceive me, they never do.

I walk into the shop with heavy steps and am greeted with the ringing of the doorbell as I open the door. I look at everything that is happening with quick glances, people are drinking something, laughing with their table companions. And here it is again, this strange and, in my opinion, tasteless hat.Did I miss something?

Now I'm finally standing where I need to be, at the bar. I'm in heaven with the wall full of different bottles. The main thing you can find here is whiskey, but I don't really care about that.

"Please give me your best whiskey!" I say this with full conviction and sit with a jerk on one of the free bar stools.

A man comes out from behind the counter and looks me up and down in horror before he finally opens his mouth.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but you definitely look too young." Just as the man was about to go back to his work, I put a small brown bag full of money on the table.

"For once their best whiskey!" With my dirty hand I pushed the money in the bartender's direction.

He looks up and down between the money and me, puzzled. But he didn't think about it for long, grabbed the brown piece of fabric and then put a glass in front of me on the counter, got a fresh bottle and poured me something.

"Excuse me, I just gave you enough money so you can leave the bottle for me." My eyes were a little irritated.What comes to mind?

"Naturally!" He left the whiskey standing.

The first glass was quick in seconds and ran down my throat, leaving a warm ache in my throat. My whole body feels like it's wrapped in a cozy blanket.

And then I pour myself the second glass and this remains noticeable with a scratch for a few seconds afterwards. The same thing happens on the third and fourth, and at some point it's like my throat is numb, I feel the alcoholic drink running down my throat, but no more burning. It's easy and pleasant.

The first bottle was probably gone within half an hour, so a second one was needed. I actually hated excessive consumption of alcohol because I know what it can do to people, but I also know that it makes you forget everything. And that's exactly what I need now.

The second was empty. Sadly, I drank the last drop from the bottle, but I wasn't exactly sad for long.

"One more please." Drunk, I speak a little louder and lean further over the piece of wood that separates me and the barman. The extremely friendly man hesitantly puts another bottle in front of me and then turns to another person who is sitting just two seats next to me at the bar.