Thursday, April 30, 2015
Charon's Ferry (Blogophilia 10.8)
Breathe in, gotta breathe out.
Pressed the detonator again, nothing.
Breathe in….Breathe out…
Splinters as the door exploded inward…
The bartender came up said the ride was here; did you want to finish the drink? Yea, one more sip. Need one more sip. Slipping and sliding into oblivion.
The paring knife appeared, slashing wildly. Fire began just under his right hand and moved upward. Something wet and sticky landed across his face.
He sees Charon sitting at the helm at the Styx, waiting for his passengers. Scaled harpies kept pulling him toward the depths. Sirens with voices like perfume sang sweetly, beckoning him further toward the boat. Jeremy could see the Angels stitched into the sails, their mouths moving with the breeze.
“I’m your ride, leave your burdens down.”
The Scarlet aperture closing along the edge of his vision. If he hurried, he might make it. Swimming in molasses, struggling to breathe. A little further to go. With a leap… An unknown force grabbing at his sleeve. With a clank, the red door shut with him on the wrong side.
With a lonely click, the gurney was fastened in place. With a final pleasantries with the red coated manager, the paramedics loaded into the wagon and drove away. The bleeding controlled, the patient probably will survive. They could take their time and let the hospital deal with it.
“Love on the rocks, ain’t no surprise. Pour me a drink, and I’ll tell you some lies.”
The bar logo The 3 Sheets, shimmering in the lonely, wet nigh as the sound system played on the speakers. Only a couple of cars left in the parking lot. The police had already come and gone. The damage was done, nothing left to control. All they could do was to write the report and file it.
“Got nothin’ to lose, so I just sing the blues all the time.”
As the ambulance left, Barney slowly went through the room and back to the office. In all of his years tending, he’d never one that slit their wrists. Plenty of meltdowns and a couple that threatened with guns. But never anything like this. He was doing him a favor just letting him sleep it off in the office. What a mess. Good thing Paolo and Jose were still here to get him out of the bar before he went completely off.
As he mopped the splatter off the walls, he could only wonder who Sarah was. Must have been some relationship for him to go there. With a little dab, a small scab broke loose off the edge of the sofa and landed in the dustpan. What was it from the old Star Wars movie? The fear of loss was the path to the dark side? This guy was a far ways down that path.
With a shrug, he picked up the mop and pail and headed back into the bar.
He was getting too old for this shit.
Pic guesses: Charon's Ferry (partially in blog), Odyssey, Sirens (in blog), Angel ship, Sea monsters, Nessie, Dragons, River Styx (in blog), Shadow Captain