The Last Port
The sound of the waves crashing against the white sand of the private beach out side the bar set a soft soothing tone for the day. A small, private island that Hour had won in a high stakes card game years ago. A place he showed up to, reeking of rum and bad choices…and built a bar on. A bar that looked like a run down shack, but was still comfortable. The sign over head proclaimed the bar “The Last Port”.
Inside, the empty bar held three people. Hour stood behind the bar, wiping down a few glasses because that’s what bartenders did. Lounging in the old hammock on the open patio, Sandy was sipping a mai tai she’d made with too much booze and a contented smile in her face. And perched on her usually spot on the end of the bar was Ruby, pouring over the newspaper as he rested her combat boots on the bar. A small chalk board sat next to her that said “Pirates” on one side and “Ninjas” on the other. Ruby looked up from the paper
“You are full of shit if you think Pirates can beat ninjas, Hour.”
Inside, the empty bar held three people. Hour stood behind the bar, wiping down a few glasses because that’s what bartenders did. Lounging in the old hammock on the open patio, Sandy was sipping a mai tai she’d made with too much booze and a contented smile in her face. And perched on her usually spot on the end of the bar was Ruby, pouring over the newspaper as he rested her combat boots on the bar. A small chalk board sat next to her that said “Pirates” on one side and “Ninjas” on the other. Ruby looked up from the paper
“You are full of shit if you think Pirates can beat ninjas, Hour.”
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