an unyielding truth – say something, i’m giving up on you

As you all know, when I can’t express what I feel , I write out a story to describe it

Here goes.


Ginger had walked into the Last Resort Saloon. There were few faces inside the musty outlet – old stooges who sat on stools by lonely tables and a drunken narcoleptic at the bar.  He walked to the corner of the granite bar and climbed onto the shaky stool.

The bar was the only thing that stood out in the whole saloon – its finish was new and deliberate. Ginger placed his elbows firmly on it and whistled to the barmaid.The buxotic babe straddled over and leaned onto the counter.

“Whatcha having, honey?” she slurred.

Ginger’s eyes shifted onto the nametag on the barmaid’s left tit.  He raised his eyebrow quizzically.

“The name’s Goddess, Goddess Tanary. ‘Ma parents gave it to me as a kid and I reckoned it was a name that people would remember. Now are you gonna keep on staring at my tits or are you gonna order something, honey?”

Ginger briefly glanced back up at the barmaid’s face before looking beyond her to the bar. He pointed his finger at a bottle on the top shelf, right at the side.

“The Macallan 55? Honey, you better have enough to pay” she said

Ginger just nodded his head, and continued to take out a cigarette to light. As he started smoking, the barmaid poured the Macallan into a chilled whiskey glass. Everyone knew, you only drank this straight.

She pushed the glass over to him and proceeded to turn away from him before she stopped.

“I don’t normally ask people this,but I can’t help it with you, honey. What’s your story?” she turned back and questioned.

Ginger put his nose into the mouth of the glass and inhaled deeply the whiskey fumes. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander for a bit. The sip came next, he felt the gold liquid flow down his throat and burn a bit inside.

“I’m heading beyond the Saloon” he said nonchalantly.

“You’re another one of them dreamers then?” the barmaid replied. She grabbed her own stool and sat across him.

“They call me Ginger ” he said.

“You hair is black.” the barmaid almost immediately retorted.

“The name’s still Ginger. I’m looking for the ultimate experience”

“Beyond the Saloon is the place for you then. If you’re here, you’re probably ready to let everything else go. This is where the most hopeless of dreamers come”

“That’s my anthem. I realised it just today- that I was bored, that sitting and sipping coffee with people I couldn’t care less about wasn’t my song, and that I must get lost to find something new”

“You’re all fools, honey. Follow me” the barmaid said, and walked to the door exiting to a back-room. She opened it, and let the Dreamer walk in.

“Take a look at that window. What do you see?” the barmaid pointed to a small window at the end of the room.

Ginger walked over and peered in.

“They’re all lost. So many of them, just walking around, just aimless and lost” he said, nails piercing into the wood framing the window.

“They were all dreamers. They still are, but look what happens when you cross the Saloon”

“Is there nothing to discover?” Ginger asked, still irked by the realization.

“They’re discovering something new every second. They’ve put themselves into a world that they’re finally happy with, but they’re no longer part of this one. It’s their ultimate experience”

“That can’t be. There must be more to this world, more to our existence. The Saloon was the marker of all that was safe, is there nothing beyond it?”

“There’s only what you want to see. Honey, you sure you still want to go?”

“I have to , now. I drank the Macallan. ”

“That you did. Let’s get onto it then”

“I want to say something though. I thought about it abit. I don’t mind crossing the Saloon now. What this world has to  offer is too little for me. The conversations bore me to sleep, the excitements are limited to giggles that slither away quickly, we are but random metrics on a larger graph.I would rather make my own world”

“You’d rather be God. That’s why your kind cross the Saloon anyway. And that’s why I’m the Goddess. It’s time” the barmaid said for the final time. She grabbed a knife hidden in her apron pocket, and quickly plunged it into the gut of the Dreamer.

The Dreamer whelped, and sunk straight onto the floor, immediately unconscious. The barmaid walked over to the window and waited.

A figure formed outside the window, on the other side. Slowly it gathered, and finally the barmaid was staring back at Ginger.

“You’re free now. Go , go and dream wild and endless dreams.”

She walked back to the granite bar. The next dreamer would come soon. His moment of last resort would be hers.




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