Here’s this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.
(Picture courtesy of Etol Bagam)
Felix and Third
The familiar smell of lemon pine-oil greeted Andrew as he strolled back into that old pub situated at the corner of Felix and Third. It was still a few hours from opening, and that was a good thing. This would be better handled alone.
He never thought he’d forget the name of the place, but memory didn’t always work the way you wanted after 70 years. He spent a lot more time here than he should have, time with laughs and tears and friends. Hard to imagine it had been reduced to a check-box on a piece of paper of things he needed to take care of.
This was the place they had all gathered when they were still students, enjoying life and too many drinks.
This was the place where Douglas (never Doug) had told the gang he was getting married and having a kid, but not in that order.
This was the place they had met Tom to shoot some pool and help him drown away his bankruptcy.
This was the place where they had almost killed Sarah.
And this was the place where they’d finish the job.