April 25, 2016

Meyers snapped his briefcase shut and nodded once firmly, well satisfied with the completion of yet another day’s work. He donned his fedora, nodded good evening to the receptionist, nodded good evening to Eddie, the elevator boy, and nodded farewell to Harwell, the guard stationed in the lobby. He passed through the revolving door and turned right in his usual manner, in pursuit of a single martini at Bellico’s before heading home. Partwell, the cop, tapped his cap with his nightstick as Meyers passed by. Meyers nodded. He paused beneath the blue pulsing neon sign of Bellico’s, pushed the dark door open, and entered. Shocked, he stood stock still. There, at the green glow bar, his usual seat was occupied. Meyers, grief stricken, slumped to the floor weeping.

‘Not to worry, buddy,’ said Charlie, the bartender. ‘If you’ll just slide down one place, everything will be aces.’

The patron, though taken somewhat aback, complied.

Meyers crawled to his usual seat, stifling whimpers. He sat, head down. Charlie placed the martini on the bar in front of Meyers. Emitting a great heartfelt sigh, Meyers continued tracing the pattern of his usual day.

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