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CRYPTORCHID

Youth is the old age of the soul, and love the essence of one’s existence; The more I age, the younger I feel inside. A man who has not experienced love would do anything to find himself lost in it… he does not care about hardships — he longs for happiness, but suffers to remain. Perhaps not visibly, but intricately enough to be anchored deep within his soul, this man is miserable.

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11 Chs

Chapter 2.1: The woman who feared God (Part 2)

Most evenings would be spent drinking alone. In my most depraved moments, I would sometimes turn to others and spend my evenings at the bar. What favoured my decision to go there that night was that I had no money to buy a bottle, a shot would be less expensive… and perhaps more effective !

Now, it was a Thursday evening. Thursdays usually are quite bland, because they're in the middle of nothingness. There is no special Thursday, it marks nothing significant, it is just there. Some days are simply special, I hated Mondays and loved Fridays, no matter how happy or sad I was, these feelings wouldn't change. Thursdays are like most people, your relationship with them is significant if you can relate to their person. I couldn't relate to many things, hence I hated Thursdays.

That evening, it wasn't late nor early (around 9:00 PM), I arrived to an empty bar. Completely empty… but open. The Barman, a young man on his phone, disfigured me as I entered. It didn't bother me much as I gulped two shots of Vodka. The room remained silent for an hour, only interrupted by my coughing or the barman's sighs. After some time, I was ready to leave, and quite disappointed in the inefficiency of the alcohol I had drank. I decided to chat with the barman.

"Is it always that empty every Thursdays ?" I asked in a pensive tone, not bothering to look at my probable interlocutor. I felt that the boy stared at me and after some time he sighed and answered.

"They usually come later"

"At what time ?"

"In a few, most clients work during the evening"

I did not reply to his affirmation, and simply stared at my watch; it was now 10:00 PM. I simply stood up, paid, then left. As I passed the door, I could hear the barman tick his tongue at me leaving without tipping.

As I was left in the streets, it was pitch black. I was unfortunately at the time, quite conscious of my every move — so after some time staring at the floor and wandering around, I decided to go back home.