The Tavern
The
piano played softly. Or the soft piano played a melody to smooth out the edges
of another rough week. It had an empathetic touch. She never raised her drink
to her lips due to the intoxication of song. Cradled by the booth in the back
corner she exhaled a deep sigh, as she tried to avoid Monday. A single glass of
a local red was a Friday night ritual. But for now, contentment was beyond the
grape as a crescendo built up by masterful fingers on keys of black and white.
The beast crouched outside in the dank and dark alley.
Its claws grasped fear of tomorrow.
The candles brightened smiles. Or bright smiles
reflected off the twenty-one candles. But the wax dripped into the cake like
the tears of the birthday girl soaked into her heart. A private party of only
two in the reserved back room was spotted with a mix of joy and sorrow as was
painted on the face of her eldest sister. The pendulum on the clock down the
hall stirred the present moment, and at the same time the grief of yesterday.
They forced smiles and fought to celebrate the momentous occasion.
The beast ogled through the frosted window with eyes
of red. Raised above its scarred head was anger against loss.
The bent ear heard all. Or the ear of his long-time
friend was bent around the corner of the bar -- and listened. Buddies since
high school. They were parked on adjacent stools for hours over a couple of
pints. One soaked it all in, while the other's blood boiled. One glass was half
full, while the other was half empty as he voiced his displeasure of being a
useless tool. The spirit of the latter was filled by the dedication of the
former. Yet, something lurked in the recesses of his mind.
The beast cracked the heavy wood door open as one foot
hovered over the threshold. Hidden behind its back was hatred toward another.
While others danced their troubles into the hardwood
floor, the beast charged in as it splintered the door frame. Shards of
indifference pierced the ceiling and walls as a dark veil cast shadows of doubt
into the minds of the patrons. Under attack, their route of escape was blocked.
It smacked fear at anyone who would succumb to it. It hammered down a steady
rage of anger. And from its hidden place, it swung hatred in a berserk frenzy.
It preyed on their happiness.
The patrons gazed at one another, stunned by the
evasion. Or it was an invasion into their refuge. A few begun to shiver and
shrink into the shadow. But courage thrived in certain pockets of the tavern.
Their strength came not from the spirits displayed behind the bar. Something
greater than a strong proof proved a finer flavour. Out from the walls of
social exclusion, there arose quality in character. Enough suffered! The
fearful woman came to the aide of the birthday girl challenged with anger,
while the man tempted by hate turned toward love. In turn, he offered to
lighten the burden of anyone who faltered. And they all faced the beast
together. For three are stronger than one, or two. And the beast faded into it own shadow until it
left the tavern.
~
“Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
~
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