Absinthe Vines
A little money to fill his pockets was all the companionship Travis needed. No drugs, hookers, or other bonuses could ever get him through the night. Just pure green enjoyment.
Life on the streets gave hard-edged Travis this kind of love for the economy. Nothing obscene, mind you, it was just the feeling of his pockets, fat with dollar bills, that let him sleep like a baby on pills. Unfortunate for him, they never saw obesity. Rarely even were they husky.
He tried anyway. Pick up a job here, mug an old lady there, just to get by and wipe away the spider's web of insomnia. Still worse than his sleeping habits, however, were his spending habits. He had bar tabs in at least five different ...
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with alcohol had been rather one sided, but hell, he'd seen Cocktail, he could fake it.
Usual customers didn't demand this kind of improvisation, anyway. Beer was the word of the day. Draft, light, and others came straight from the keg, and they emptied as fast as he tapped them. However taxing this was on him didn't matter. He had cash.
"Excuse me?" Travis said, speaking also with his eyes, which brooded quizzically over the dark hollows of his sockets.
"Absinthe," whispered the boy sitting at the counter. Clothes containing no shortage of black were draped over his skinny frame, his eyes also holding dark half moons, swirling purple and blue. Orange ringed the pupils of his dark brown eyes. He couldn't have been over 16 years old.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." A wiry arm shot up and pulled Travis to the counter, close to those dark, evil eyes.
"Where's the owner? Is Thomas here?" hissed the boy into Travis' face, his breath smelling of ...
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wall to reveal a small, dully gleaming door. Inside was a combination lock, which he made quick use of. "I copied the combination from Thomas. I have a photographic memory," he said to no one in particular, tapping his forehead to punctuate. I wonder what else he's got in that mind of his, Travis thought. He seemed mysterious and intelligent, almost god-like. "Ah, here we are."
He tossed Travis a small bottle full of some dark liqueur. It smelled of the boy's breath, like a dark, sweet death that asks you to come with it. And I'll say yes, he thought, and found himself saying it out loud. The boy only nodded knowingly.
Travis uncorked his bottle and took a tiny sip. Bitter ...
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Absinthe Vines. (2008, May 9). Retrieved December 23, 2024, from http://www.essayworld.com/essays/Absinthe-Vines/83331
"Absinthe Vines." Essayworld.com. Essayworld.com, 9 May. 2008. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <http://www.essayworld.com/essays/Absinthe-Vines/83331>
"Absinthe Vines." Essayworld.com. May 9, 2008. Accessed December 23, 2024. http://www.essayworld.com/essays/Absinthe-Vines/83331.
"Absinthe Vines." Essayworld.com. May 9, 2008. Accessed December 23, 2024. http://www.essayworld.com/essays/Absinthe-Vines/83331.
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