[Shorts][Bartender Stories] Dancers for the Dead

TW: Death, Grief

Grieving the loss of a loved one is hard for anyone. Even if I’m just watching and sharing grief, it can get tough.

Mocktails help me get over these times. So I went to visit my favourite bartender. He stood quietly by as I downed two of his concoctions in a row. I didn’t ask if there was alcohol, but something burned its way nicely down my throat, bringing tears to my eyes.

At least that must be the reason for my wet cheeks. I have no good reason to cry. I don’t have enough reasons to grieve.

While I nursed my third almost certainly alcohol free mocktail, my bartender quietly took up a tale.

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[Shorts] I Am The King

He sits and stares out the window. Surveying his domain. Watching his territory. Ensuring the safety of his subjects.

Boredboredboredbored

He yawns and changes position. Scratches his belly. Watching is so boring yet necessary…

Something enters his domain. He just knows it, he can’t explain how, but something that shouldn’t be there is there. He looks around for his servant, but they’re not where they should be. Neither at beck, nor at call.

Huff. I’ll punish them later. For now, it’s time to put things right in my kingdom. He stretches. A little activity is never a bad thing. Quietly, he moves to the door, and exits.

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