Caterpillar's

Untitled Part 1

The bar was called Caterpillar's. I sat alone behind the counter, completely alone. Once the clock struck 4:30 AM, I could go back home. Not like there was much to get to. I perched myself on the counter and started fiddling on my phone. Rick would have my head if he knew I wasn't working in some way, but I wasn't worried. It was too late to worry. Or is it too early?" I wondered, seeing as it was well past midnight. Either way, I was too tired to worry. I was too tired to do anything except watch the minutes tick by until I could leave. 3:47, 3:48, 3:49. I was deep in boredom when the door opened, the little bell giving a pleasant Ding! Newcomers were rare at this hour, if nonexistent. The stranger was a man, dressed in shabby clothes with messy blond hair.

"Hello, welcome to Caterpillar's, what can I get you," I said.

The stranger ignored me and shuffled over. His steps were the only sound in the room. I cleared my throat hoping for an answer, but still got none. Stranger sat down and fixed his eyes on the small candle on the bar in front of him. He seemed completely enraptured by it, his eyes flickering with the flame. I cleared my throat again. He finally looked up, pale-faced and red-eyed. Ah, that makes sense, I thought. Stoners didn't show up frequently, but they were usually quiet.

"Excuse me sir, you do realize that you have to buy something here," I said calmly, "if you're not purchasing anything, I'm gonna have to kick you out."

"Take a look at this," He said while pointing to the candle. His voice mirrored his appearance, all ragged and gruff.

"Its a candle," I said slowly.

"Its us," he said, still not looking up.

Wait, what? Is this an insult? I wondered. "Excuse me?"

"Humans. We're like the fire," he spoke with strange authority. This all reminded me of the 'hits blunt' memes my niece was always trying to explain.

"Were the flame in the candle of Earth. It's amazing and terrifying. We glow so bright and beautiful while we kill the thing that holds us up." His words were slurred. He makes sense.

"We burn down the world for a little bit of light in the darkness. And now we're nearing the end of the wick. What happens when we hit the glass? Why are we so scared of the dark?"

I was almost speechless. "I don't know how to answer that."

"Nobody does," Stranger said. "I'd like a drink. Anything." He anticipated my next question before I said it. I poured him a shot, and then one for me too. I had only had a drink with two other customers. The first, a young woman whose husband cheated and the second a black man whose friend was arrested. I sat. We clinked glasses. We drank.