The Local

Words by Evangelia Karageorgos

This place smells of beer, its old and run down. There are dark colours, dim lighting, and music playing in the background.

The wine coloured bar stools have faded with time. There’s a line of painted portraits, with eyes that follow you as you go by.

Stickers and photos line the bar walls. A place full of memories and pub crawls.

There are shelves full of alcohol, and dusty knickknacks. A moose head, wearing glasses, his just missing a hat.

Next to the bar faded brown curtains try to block out the day light. This is not to bad of a place to come waste some time.

People slowly drift in after the doors are unlocked. A pub pilgrimage after a long day on the clock.

Musicians gradually arrive they grab a beer and to the garden they go. Photos and practice for tonight’s show.

People are on tap here, spilling in from the street. There here for a few beers and to rest weary feet.

The barman’s name is George, He knows every regular he serves. An art student who is off soon he’ll travel the world. There’s a young girl concerned for a mutual friend. She’s not sure what to do, to help the violence end. Then shots with the travelers, as they pass on through. They say there here working for a day or two.

People start spilling in now, from the garden round back. Its time for one more beer and a final chat.