Free Desolate by A.M. Guilliams

have to talk to anyone except to order my drink. Then I’d find a corner, drink the drink, and leave. That simple.
    I let out a few more breaths, shaking my hands to shake off the rest of the nerves that lingered, grabbed my clutch purse, and quickly got out of the vehicle.
    The gravel crunched underneath my boots with each step that I took. I nodded my head at the man standing on the stoop and put my head down after I opened the heavy, wooden door of the entrance. Smoke billowed out of the door, and I waited for it to clear before I walked inside.
    The door banged against the frame as it shut, causing me to jump and a gasp to escape my throat. I scanned the room and what I feared would happened actually occurred. All eyes were on me, even though the jukebox was blaring some song I’d never heard. Everyone in the bar stopped what they were doing and now stared at me. There were five men sitting at the bar with one lone bartender behind it, a towel in his hand as he dried a glass. Two men were over at the pool table off to the right, each holding their pool cues as they stared at me. Off to my left, there was another group of five guys sitting at one of the round tables, the top with a pitcher of beer and a glass for each of them.
    Just flipping great. I mumbled to myself as I cautiously walked over to the bar.
    “What can I get you tonight, sweetheart?” he asked as he wiped down the space on the bar in front of me.
    Cautiously, I sat down on the stool and stared up at him, almost too afraid to speak. My chest grew tighter with each passing second, but I pushed the feeling aside and finally spoke my response.
    “Any lite beer you have on tap is fine,” I choked out before he thought I was insane.
    The speaking part is over now. You’ve got this. I coached myself while he was away. It would be the only way I’d make it through the night.
    “Here ya go, sweetheart,” he replied with a wink.
    I nodded my head and grabbed the glass in front of me, taking a big gulp to help with the continuing nerves that I experienced. I swallowed the mouthful of beer, stood from the stool and took myself and my beer over to the far corner in the right of the room. It was the best place to watch everyone coming and going from the bar. It was also where I could hide out until I could leave.

    * * *
    Weston
    S he was the saddest person I’d ever seen as I watched her nursing her beer from my spot at the bar. I’d wanted to walk over to her several times, but I stopped each time the thought crossed my mind. She looked like a woman on a mission. A mission to drown her sorrows. Her brown hair was curled slightly and flowed down her back, where it reached hiding behind the table. The gray sweater top she was wearing showed off just enough skin to make my imagination run to places that it shouldn’t, which is why I didn’t focus on the silky, pale skin for long. The small part that peaked out from the warm looking material made me want to kiss her there, ever so slowly. Show her how much she could be wanted. Then there was her beautiful, breathtaking face. She had full cheeks that had a tint of pink in them, I’d assume from the weather and not makeup because she didn’t have much, if any on tonight. Her lips were plump and inviting, another particular spot on her body I wouldn’t focus on. I couldn’t if I stood any chance of not making an ass out of myself when I went over to her. It was her eyes that drew me in the most. Not the color, but the deepening sadness that lurked just below the surface. A sadness I could tell that she tried to hide, but she didn’t succeed tonight. Her brow furrowed as if she was deep in thought as she took a sip from the half empty glass before her.
    “Hey, Hank. Do you know that woman sitting in the far corner of the bar? She looks familiar, but I can’t seem to place her,” I signaled to the town bartender, a man that I grew up knowing.
    “Nope. Haven’t seen her around town or in here before, for