Hesitating at the door; Stopped in my tracks by the bedlam within.
I peered through the smog.
The congested bar stretched into inconspicuousness.
Sinister and sublime.
Pinpointing a space amongst the revelers, I cut through the sultry atmosphere, kickin-up the debris of discarded delights.
I clung to the glutinous counter.
The barman’s raised eyebrows questioned me.
“Caña” I smiled.
With brutal efficiency he slopped a small beer in front of me, whilst summoning “the first”.
Indeed it was.
An old crone delivered a small plate of orange gunge. Temptingly dangerous.
“Foreigner” she spat.
The air thickened.
Bob Manning Nowadays describe myself as a 'Random-Abstract Creative Free Thinker'; Having crashed and burnt with drink and drugs leaves you with but one opportunity, reinvent and renew, I took to writing, It's a therapy that vents the part of the brain that previously demanded numbing. I studied, and qualified as an Addictions Counselor. I met and married my soulmate Gerda, together we farm in the natural beauty of the Alpujarra region of Granada, Spain, we also run retreats for people who struggle on their path, Life is good. |