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Flash Fiction- The Watering Hole

I am a writer of poetry and fiction. I especially love flash fiction. My name is Ruby, and I live in Southern Illinois. I am a retired R.N.


Pete sat motionless as he listened to the mortician's remarks.

Pete only had a couple stair flights to reach his favorite watering hole, a bar where he spent every waking hour. He sat down and ordered his usual, a double shot of whiskey with a water chaser.

He'd lived in a little one bedroom apartment above the bar since his retirement two years ago. He'd worked on the docks loading and unloading ships since he was old and strong enough to lift cargo coming and going.

He had never married and had no surviving family.

Joe, who owned the bar paid little attention to him as long as he paid-up and didn't bother anyone.

Pete lived in his own little world drinking, and making friends wasn't on his bucket list. He'd never deliberately hurt anyone, but he'd never gone out of his way to help anyone either.


A large mirror hung on the wall behind the bar, depicting a nude woman on a lily pad. Pete had never noticed it before, but tonight, he saw movement and was astonished to see his body laying on a slab at the city morgue.

The mortician was in the process of performing an autopsy for medical students. First he removed the liver which was black with areas of green pus. Next, he removed the brain which was dark gray. He had a normal brain and liver encased in a see-through container to highlight the difference between the normal and diseased organs.

Pete sat motionless as he listened to the mortician tell the students, " This is a typical case of alcoholism and how it destroys the liver. ( Cirrhosis of the liver ) and the brain, ( Alcoholic Psychosis )

This man's name I'm told, is Pete. He was robbed and murdered in the hallway, just a few steps from his apartment above the bar where he spent most of his awake hours drinking.

Pete ordered another drink and downed it quickly before stumbling out of the bar, heading for the stairs that led to his apartment.

Fumbling for his door keys, he saw four hoodlum killers walking toward him.

There really wasn't four, there were only two. Double vision is another common occurrence when too much alcohol reaches the brain.

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