Short Story 3

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Short Story

Rigga doo, Rigga doo doo, doo doo,” sang the man on the stage while he strummed his guitar. The room was full of a light smoke and the lights were dim. The smell of cedar wood swirled around as the wood stove in the corner kept everyone warm. It was a small crowd, but it was a friendly crowd. Everyone knew each other very well. Every night they all showed up at the pub to listen to music and discuss their days. Well, except for Wednesdays. That day was a day to rest and recoup from the week.

Rigga doo, Rigga doo doo, doo doo,” the singer belted out again as the door swung open. The small crowd of thirty people looked towards the door as the sun shined through the opening. A few held their hands to their faces, to try to shade the sun and see who was approaching.

The smoke cleared a bit as the rush of fresh air flew into the room. Someone in a trench coat walked slowly forward and headed towards the bar. Everyone was trying to see his or her face but their eyes were still adjusting the light. The few people sitting at the bar stools got up to make room for the new visitor.

The bartender leaned over the table with his beer rag in hand. He was cleaning up the glasses from the night before. His scruffy beard rubbed against the wet bar as he asked, “Hello stranger.”

The visitor loosened their trench coat a bit and sat down. Everyone’s eyes started adjusting to the light. They could now see long curly brown hair and soft hands peeking out from the bottom of the trench coats sleeves. “I’ll take a drink please,” stated this new visitor.

We don’t serve your kind here,” replied the bar tender. The guest bolted up from the small bar stool and threw off their trench coat. “Why not!” they shouted.
“You killed the whales!” yelled back the bartender.

No! I didn’t Ed!” Rawred Lola.

Everyone giggled and crowded around Lola as Ed handed her a drink.