Thank you to D. Avery for pointing out my typo of 267…if that had been true rather than the exact 297…argh!

Today was the second 24-hour free write for Carrot Ranch. I meant to read the prompt before I went to sleep last night, but I was happily out for a late dinner and completely

forgot about checking the prompt until this morning. So much for sleeping on the prompt and letting my subconscious go to work.

I went with my “gut” on this one as Charli suggests in her write-up.  My gut told me to do something out of the ordinary so here it is. For the prompt of “Papa’s bar,” my “story” Eulogies.

Thanks to Charli and the judges for this opportunity.

Eulogies (297 words)

“Most of y’all don’t know how I came to be working here. It ain’t a tale I’m proud to tell. It changed my life, you see. I was at the end of my rope. Just been laid off, Sally was pregnant. I had no prospects. But I had a gun. It was snowing that night. Bitter. I knew no one would be in the pub. A good time to rob it. Padraic took one look at me and the gun, asked if I’d like a pint of Guinness. Man, I just stared at him. Waved my gun. He drew the pint and asked me my story. My story. I cried. He gave me a job. Saved my life.”

Eulogize my sainted brother Padraic? I won’t tell them what I really think, the bastard and his teaching moments. Skinflint couldn’t even make me a loan without lording it over me. I’ll tell them what they want to hear. What a grand man Padraic was, bull like that. Not how he told me he’d only give me money if I went to rehab like I was some bleeding alky. Money for one damn bottle of Jameson’s wouldn’t have broken his bank.

“I was eighteen and thought I knew everything. I’d run away to college, explore the world and never be tied down to this pub like Pa. I thought it was an anchor around his neck. Only later I realized what a vital and amazing part of this town it was. A community. A family. By then it was too late. I don’t regret all my decisions, but I regret the stubbornness that kept us estranged. Mostly I regret all the conversations Pa and me will never have. I always thought I’d have more time…I thought…I miss you, Daddy.”

end

Sascha Darlington