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This was a prompt given to a friend amd ages ago i wrote this passage and never finished it.
The clock struck midnight as the alley way opened showing a whole new world.
I was going to make him past put in an alleyway and when he wakes he is in his bed and his wife is comforting. He believed it was all a dream, except he couldnt wake up. His wife didnt have the flaws he loved she was too perfect. He tries to find a way back to the real world, but he is held captive by his own paradise.
Genre - Mystery, horror
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The rain was pouring down heavily, but what muffled by the walls of the bar, and sounds of the jukebox. A man sat at the end of the bar, mentioning to to the bartender for another drink; a silence command. His black locks were dischellved and blue eyes droopy. The bartender poured him another toxic shot and spoke.
"This is the last one Peter," he moved the drink towards Peter." You've been drinking since eight o'clock, and it's nearly midnight, when we close." Peter looked around, even though the walls were zooming in and out of focus, and swayed like he was upon a ship; he was the only customer here. Peter sighed, and sloshed back his drink. He had gotten use to the burn at the back of his throat, which was the only comfort he had right now; it made him crave for it.
"Don't you have a wife to go home to?" Pete sighed heavily again, pulling out his phone from his pocket, and turn it on and showed the bartender. On the lock screen was a message.
❤My Beautiful one❤
Peter, you're not the same anymore, you're not the man I married. I thought we
could still work this whole mess out but, since you quit your job, and started
hanging with those criminals you call 'friends' I knew this relationship was
past saving. I'm sorry but I'm going to be staying with my sister until you sort
your life out. I'm going to get the divorce papers in the morning. Stay safe, and
call me when you have your life in order.
The bartender drawn in breathe through closed teeth. "Man, have one last drink, then I will call you a cab." He said as he poured another drink.
"You don't need to call a taxi," Peter slammed the drink down, and wobbly stood up swung his coat on. "I don't live far."
"Okay, well enjoy the rest of your night," Peter looked back at him with a depressed look. "You can still make this work." Peter walked though the doors and was immediately assaulted by the wind and rain. 'Like hell I can.' He was helpless now. He had no job, no family, no wife. Peter had no future. He would be homeless soon if he doesn't find a way to get money, to pay his rent. He was helpless now.
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