Near the woodlands of California, there stood a small town. This town was part of the old country, all the houses made of wood and logs, tons of barrels for wine and ale against them. During the day birds were singing among the branches high above them, echoing throughout the trees and filling the village with cheer. But though their songs were voluminous, great whoops of laughter and harmonious thrill overpowered their speech. In the middle of the town, an old, narrow pub stood straight and tall. This pub creaked and shook as the wind blew against it, each moment being a chance of all sorts of fatalities. The people inside didn’t mind though. All were happy and oblivious, drinking until their minds were blurred with intoxication, and their hearts deep in song. Each day was the same, all the men speaking of their recent hunting trips, the women endlessly gossiping about citizens, and the copious amounts of alcohol that was drunken. No one minded this methodical way of life. All were content….. until one day. On Sunday morning when all people were clumped in their houses, dressing for their afternoon religious service, a strange man came to town. He was an elderly looking man with a gray receding hairline. He limped warily across town, crouching as if ten pounds were pressed upon his back. His clothes were battered and torn, with only a golden watch to show that he was of wealth. The townspeople stared in astonishment out of their house windows, curious to know why such a man was in their village. None of them dared to come out. The man waltzed weakly up to the pub and opened the wooden door. He walked up to the bartender, looking worriedly around once or twice as he passed the many people occupying chairs. They sat in their seats dumbfounded at this unclean newcomer. “May I have some water” croaked the old man, straightening his back as best as he could. The bartender nodded, grabbing a glass from behind him and pouring brown liquid out of a barrel. “We only have ale” said the owner as he handed the glass to his customer. “Thank you” murmured the stranger, gulping it down without a glance of skepticism. He finished his last sip with a moan of pleasure, froth soaring over his upper lip like a mustache. He stared up at the owner with hope and pushed the glass toward the bartender. “May I have a second round?” he asked. “You’ll have to pay me first” said the owner as he glared at the torn gentleman before him. “Ok. How much is a second round?”. The bartender smirked as he counted out the price in his head and stated “5 dollars for one and 10 dollars for two.” The individual standing across from him sat with wide eyes. He stuttered harshly, saying “that’s pr-pr-proposterous. Now, why would you suppose I would do such a thing?” The bartender retorted, “well we have to make money somehow. Sorry pal but I’m not reducing the price. This is your best bet and if you don’t have anything, than I will have to kick you out.” The old gentleman looked sorrowfully at his opponent and began to unlatch his watch, slowly with reluctance to let it go. “This is all I have left” he said quietly, lifting the dangling piece of jewelry and placing it on the table. After inspecting it until knowing every detail, the bartender asked, “Is it genuine?” The old man sat for a moment with a faint smile on his face and looked down at the elegant item. “Yes it is” he finally retorted, caressing the watch longingly. “The watch was given to me by my late niece for Christmas. She spent all her allowance on it for me.” The last word was prolonged in deep affection, for he was reminiscing. The man stroked it one last time and then shoved the watch towards his companion. “It’s yours” he declared. The bartender glanced at the watch and at the weak man multiple times before snatching it from the table. “I’ll give you an extra pint for that, on the house.” “No thank you” sighed the old man who got up from his seat and stood quietly. “I’ll just take my one beer and be on my way. But thank you for the offer though.” His friend nodded appreciatively and hastily filled up a pint of ale. The kind gentleman grabbed the ale and drank it lustily, wiping his chin as he finished. Both men shook hands and many thanks were given (mostly by the owner) before the old man was on his way. The bartender waved enthusiastically as he exited the door and into the woods. But it wasn’t the woods that awaited him. It was a whole new climate…. When he exited the pub, sand started rushing at his feet and the green trees disappeared from view. Buildings lost their color, and all the people faded away like a painting that was rinsed till it soaked with liquid and all a blur. Only blue skies, sand and the vultures above were seen for miles. They loomed around the old man who staggered in the sand, limping out into the middle of nowhere to an uncertain destination. He walked with fatigue, sweat staining his torn clothing and his mouth gaping open, parched from the sun beaming down upon the only man in the desert. He left nothing behind except his footsteps that were inconspicuous due to the wind blowing in every direction….. and he also left behind a golden watch.
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