Drabble: Barfight – by Leanne Olson

by specklit

Bottles of spirits rest behind the bar, half-full and dusty. Light glints off the glass and if you squint, you can see something swirling.

The bartender knows how to mix them. A splash of southern vermouth gives a grandmother’s wisdom to a new bride; a shot of whiskey grants her the courage of a grizzled gunslinger for her wedding night. The ghosts don’t mind. They live on through bodies that drink them.

But the soul stored in that particular bottle is my grandmother, and she left me out of the will. I raise my rifle and take aim. Glass shatters.

Author’s Note: I wrote this one at my favourite pub, obviously.


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