Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse

Real Folk

My town wasn't totally devoid of life. After all, I wasn't the only heretic born and raised in the town that Wal-Mart killed. The few that were left, had either gone into hiding and were living off the land, or embraced their lack of greater purpose like early retirement. Within the latter group were the barflies.

Drinking was a pastime my hometown was known for. More bars than churches wasn't just a matter of priority; it was necessity. Aside from praying on Sundays and bowling on Tuesdays, there was nothing to do in this stinking town but drink.

Naturally, the bar crowd was mostly alcoholics that had no concern for their livers. Since the town hadn't run dry yet, there was no reason for them to sober up if they didn't want to.

Devin's preferred watering hole was the Double T. He found the name intrinsically humorous. He entered first, drawing the first few glares and guns from the patrons inside. No one was intentionally unfriendly. It was just instinct. Although, I'm not sure that could be blamed on the apocalypse. It might have just been a lack of social grace created by a population with higher morals than standards.

Once the grouches and grousers had settled back down and holstered their weapons, Devin manned the bar for us. He brought us each a beer, popping the top on each one like he was familiar with the sticky side of a counter. "Ladies," he leaned over the bar and tapped his beer to each of ours, "to being back in the bosom," he winked at me, "of our family. May we never need to separate again."

"Hear, hear!" Haden raised her beer before chugging it down in an impromptu contest with Devin.

I looked past Haden to offer August a nod before drinking my beer. At least a small gesture so she knew I was glad that they were back, even if I wasn't the same woman I was when they left me.

Her face was somber and distant, probably pressured by a great number of things on her mind. I imagined that she was still dwelling on my almost demise, but it seemed to be something more internal than her usual motherly concerns. I wanted to know what her troubles were, but when my mouth opened, I just poured beer into it.