He woke up sprawled out on the landing deck, not that he was in a position to know where he was given the splitting headache that seemed to be coming from in front and behind. He reached to the front and back of his head and felt swollen nodes above his left eye and underneath his thinning white crown. Lifting his head up slowly, he looked around.
At least there’s no chalk lines, he thought to himself. It wasn’t the first time he woke up in a dried pool of blood. Or whiskey. It probably wouldn’t be the last.
Laying back down, he went through his usual process of elimination.
Not the keep, most likely not the guard. I almost forgot how people in the border worlds took things so . . . personally.
*Sigh* - Must have been the owner. Their bar, their rules.
As he got up from his rather awkward position, his bones and joints ached. Must have been there for a while.
As he stumbled back to the bar entrance, all he could think about was the throbbing. Maybe it was splitting, but regardless, he had seen better days.
Good business model. Let someone buy a drink, knock them unconscious, and give them a headache they can only cure by going back to the bar for another. It almost made him smirk.
As he approached the door, he wasn’t met by another arm barring his way.
Suppose they took the pistol. At least they’re not stupid. Or perhaps they’re hoping for a second round.
Ignoring the lights in the bar for a moment, which did nothing but worsen the pain, he looked around. In the corner, he spotted the shaded figure of a woman in a booth. He couldn’t see her eyes or make out any of her features, but he didn’t need to.
Bingo.
He pulled a stool up to the booth, reached into his jacket’s chest pocket, and pulled a cigarette from a metallic case. In his back left pocket, he found his lighter. Lighting the cigarette, he tasted to sweet smoke and was relieved.
Must have been out for a while – nicotine doesn’t usually hit this noticably. Seem like decent folk, leaving an old man’s vices with him.
After a deep inhale, he exhaled away from the silhouetted woman in front of him.
“Touche. Mind if I trouble your bar for another round?”
