SHORT STORIES
The evening was cool. The setting sun had just disappeared from the horizon. Trees bowed, leaves retreated from the day's spectacle. The birds and the beatles, and the frogs silenced their orchestras. They felt the rhythm of the night and heeded the instructor's cue to end the show. After the cadenza, a strange animal played his soloist, and everyone took a bow.
Meanwhile, lights from the high rise buildings in the city coruscated across the landscape. Taxi cabs, and buses, and trains played a different kind of music. Some instruments blared, others played a repeated crescendo, and yet others were more atonal than structural. The trains were more timbre as they rushed, and sped, and stopped abruptly at the various stations. Faint human tones added to the mele.
Night clubs were packed with revellers who sought refuge from many things. Some for their mundane existence, others for their sordid life, most for their herd mentality, and a few never knew why they were there. Liquor flowed like a waterfall. Humans imbibed. They became inebriated but hardly knew. The barman often became a psychiatrist without a name and an appointment. He heard some of the most personal stories. When he tried to intervene, he barely got a few words in. He heard of mothers-in-law who were the worst humans to ever exist, husbands who needed to die now, wives who were witches, girlfriends who need to fix their heads, bosses who didn't have a clue what they were doing, and politicians who should shove their rhetoric in the lower body below their backs. Many of these experts proffered theories that would make Einstein shudder. Yet they continued relentlessly. They yapped, and yapped, and yapped.
One customer asked the barman about his religious and political persuasion. The barman pretended not to hear and faked mixing drinks for someone. When he seemed to be free, the customer returned to the question. The barman was mum again. The customer volunteered to share his beliefs. The barman struggle, but listened, anyway. The customer extolled how this world would be a better place if there was only one religion and one type of people. He sought the barman's opinion. His slow reply was, "That is interesting." Not satisfied, the customer pointed to problems around the world where people are living inharmoniously and blamed too many different beliefs. The barman joined by asking the customer if all of his family members live in harmony. The customer jubilantly boasted that they do. After a pause, the customer reflected on two of his brothers whom he described as suckers. That piqued the barman's interest. He listened attentively for more. The customer became even more ruffled. He left the bar.
A pretty girl stepped up to the counter and ordered a few drinks. When the beverages had settled, she needed some psychoanalysis. The psychiatrist sensed the need but was too busy with other customers. The girl had now buried her face on the counter. The barman summoned his manager for assistance. The female manager touched the elbow of the customer and offered assistance. She immediately lifted her head and complained that the barman was not paying her any attention. The barman apologized and decided to listen. She said her husband of two years was the most handsome man she had ever seen. But after marrying him he became ugly. The barman faked a raised eyebrow. That gave her ammunition to fire some nuclear weapons. The barman ensured he had the weapons to intercept the munitions. Rockets flew in every direction. A few other customers nearby were grazed. Luckily none landed.
Midnight had quietly left . Dawn was making her final turn in bed to start her mission. Some people couldn't wait for dawn and had to hurriedly take part of the night to start their day's tasks. And the music began again. The orchestras in the city started their rhythms, often inelegantly. But they often had to play to the beat of the patrons. And then its repeated every day.
© Wallace Paul, May 2025 .
The evening was cool. The setting sun had just disappeared from the horizon. Trees bowed, leaves retreated from the day's spectacle. The birds and the beatles, and the frogs silenced their orchestras. They felt the rhythm of the night and heeded the instructor's cue to end the show. After the cadenza, a strange animal played his soloist, and everyone took a bow.
Meanwhile, lights from the high rise buildings in the city coruscated across the landscape. Taxi cabs, and buses, and trains played a different kind of music. Some instruments blared, others played a repeated crescendo, and yet others were more atonal than structural. The trains were more timbre as they rushed, and sped, and stopped abruptly at the various stations. Faint human tones added to the mele.
Night clubs were packed with revellers who sought refuge from many things. Some for their mundane existence, others for their sordid life, most for their herd mentality, and a few never knew why they were there. Liquor flowed like a waterfall. Humans imbibed. They became inebriated but hardly knew. The barman often became a psychiatrist without a name and an appointment. He heard some of the most personal stories. When he tried to intervene, he barely got a few words in. He heard of mothers-in-law who were the worst humans to ever exist, husbands who needed to die now, wives who were witches, girlfriends who need to fix their heads, bosses who didn't have a clue what they were doing, and politicians who should shove their rhetoric in the lower body below their backs. Many of these experts proffered theories that would make Einstein shudder. Yet they continued relentlessly. They yapped, and yapped, and yapped.
One customer asked the barman about his religious and political persuasion. The barman pretended not to hear and faked mixing drinks for someone. When he seemed to be free, the customer returned to the question. The barman was mum again. The customer volunteered to share his beliefs. The barman struggle, but listened, anyway. The customer extolled how this world would be a better place if there was only one religion and one type of people. He sought the barman's opinion. His slow reply was, "That is interesting." Not satisfied, the customer pointed to problems around the world where people are living inharmoniously and blamed too many different beliefs. The barman joined by asking the customer if all of his family members live in harmony. The customer jubilantly boasted that they do. After a pause, the customer reflected on two of his brothers whom he described as suckers. That piqued the barman's interest. He listened attentively for more. The customer became even more ruffled. He left the bar.
A pretty girl stepped up to the counter and ordered a few drinks. When the beverages had settled, she needed some psychoanalysis. The psychiatrist sensed the need but was too busy with other customers. The girl had now buried her face on the counter. The barman summoned his manager for assistance. The female manager touched the elbow of the customer and offered assistance. She immediately lifted her head and complained that the barman was not paying her any attention. The barman apologized and decided to listen. She said her husband of two years was the most handsome man she had ever seen. But after marrying him he became ugly. The barman faked a raised eyebrow. That gave her ammunition to fire some nuclear weapons. The barman ensured he had the weapons to intercept the munitions. Rockets flew in every direction. A few other customers nearby were grazed. Luckily none landed.
Midnight had quietly left . Dawn was making her final turn in bed to start her mission. Some people couldn't wait for dawn and had to hurriedly take part of the night to start their day's tasks. And the music began again. The orchestras in the city started their rhythms, often inelegantly. But they often had to play to the beat of the patrons. And then its repeated every day.
© Wallace Paul, May 2025 .