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~ Alice Fable ~

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~ Alice Fable ~

    When you first arrive in hell you'd expect there to be fire and screaming right? Torture at every corner and your own skin practically peeling off? Well, that's not the case, that's just a lie, a story. Hell is so much worse.

02/04/2004
20:13

    It began with a drink, I remember that part. I was out with Lee in some bar downtown where the barkeepers were in a hustle and the drinkers were in a glossed over daze. There wasn't a dreamer insight as far as the bar could reach. Even the singer on stage looked extremely uptight and maybe even aggravated no one was paying attention to her. Lee was swinging and swaying with a drink in hand and the bartender already preparing her next. She was a lightweight, although not as much compared to me. All it took this chick was a shot or two of tequila. In this case, a tequila sunrise but without the sunrise.

    Lee did not falter. With her heart-shaped sunglasses that had orange lenses and large white feather earrings, I couldn't blame her. Even the dejection in this bar could not keep her down, not while she was drunk anyway. She wore black overalls over a white and black striped long-sleeved shirt that managed to match her long disheveled black hair and quite pale skin. She had small eyes and a curved nose. Lee always said that her mother, before she joined me in the orphanage, always hated her curved nose and couldn't wait til' she was old enough to change it. I use to wonder if that's why she wore glasses. As a way to hide them, distract viewers. But I think she just likes glasses even when she doesn't need them. She was giggling loudly and unapologetically. At what, I have no clue. Probably at the intoxication bubbling in her brain. She had this sense of ebullience, clear as day in her eyes. Past the dramatic sunglasses and the glaring night sky, it was easier to see than storm clouds on a supposedly clear day. I was a dull pen compared to her, with little to no ink left. I wore practically what I wore everyday. Blue mom-like jeans and a large sweater that didn't fit me or really any of the men in this room. It would slide off my shoulder slightly every once in a while, and it was starting to bother me.

    Lee was fresh with confidence as soon as we stepped into the bar. But I was left feeling drained and out of place. I didn't wanna drive downtown let alone hang out at some isolated pub, that if it wasn't sandwiched between two other buildings, would be in the middle of a forest. There was a deep forest from behind the buildings on the one street we were hanging out on. It was presumably haunted, with many uncanny fables being awarded the front page of the newspapers. The only reason I read the papers. was because I worked on them. Editing the pages took a lot less work than I thought it would. But that was most likely because I was more prepared to do actual writing, than reading. They were a joke, the stories. That didn't mean I felt comfortable, being in some sketchy bar in front of a probably still very deadly forest.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 06, 2020 ⏰

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