Fed up he was…left for a walk in the park, but ended up at the bar for a drink…She was there in his illusions. As always. but cannot make a move…fears are great…Sir: what is your drink, she asked. His reply was dull: anything to bring me back to life.
This drink is no longer served here anymore, Sir…The waiter described club’s winter working hours. There was a picture of a beautiful young lady and a young girl on her lab on the screen…we were a happy family…that is my mother, we meet once a year on my annual vacation when I go back to the village in summer; she said. Hid eyesight was dragged to the entrance; sadness falls as she walks in. Sat to the other end of the bar, shared few glances… memories trapped him, there is no hope …just finish his drink and move on trying to escape a rooted old memory that conquers his dead soul.