Sara was lucky to have a job at the Spread Eagle. Stocking, organizing, and shelving alcohol may not have been glamorous job in the small town bar, but without it she would’ve gone crazy. Without it, there would’ve been too much time to think, and the last place Sara wanted to be was in her own head. Not after drifting through the Bliss for so long.
In the mornings the bar was quiet. There had always been the odd patron who kept to themselves or maybe exchange a quick word with Mary May, but they were regulars. Familiar faces. The man who found himself a table, pulling a cigarette out of its carton, was a stranger. Sara wasn’t so arrogant to claim she knew everyone in Fall’s End, but she’d come to recognize their faces. And his… well, his seemed out of place.
“Hey, if you’re looking for Mary May she ran out for a quick errand, but, um, is there something I can get you?” She asked of the man, standing at his side, looking at him expectantly.
And here we go, playing social, playing as if he's actually interested in anything this place has to offer. God! How he hates it. He should never have come in person, but being stuck in an office all day drives you mad and causing a little havoc is what he calls a vacation. Now he's stuck for the time being, and people want to talk to him; people that not yet have the fear trembling down their bodies when they do. Well, maybe they do, but not from him, and that in itself is a problem.
Still, he smiles. It's not friendly. It never is.
"Wouldn't just so happen to know where the next mechanic is that doesn't blow things up instead of fixing them, do you, honey?"
From experience, the addition is very, very, very important.
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