Thank you to K. Rawson and What Pegman Saw. I’ve read the stories for a while now that others have written, but I’ve never taken part before. I’m happy to do so now and much appreciative for the prompt.
A Pint and the Roundtable
I sit at the circular table where we all once sat, laughing, drinking Hobgoblin, eating crisps, playing a game of songs and singers.
Their faces, all sparkling with joy and laughter, are so clear to me.
The table is now surrounded by ghosts. The ones who’ve died. The ones whose minds have gone. The ones who no longer speak to me.
The veil descends over us all.
“Miss? Are you expecting others?” It’s the baby-faced bartender, pale and respectful.
I look at the empty chairs.
A soft voice, mine, says: “We’re done.”