A long night..

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Emeka motioned to the bartender and asked for his glass to be refill. The bartender looked at him the same way he had looked at him when he walked into the bar thirty minutes earlier with bloodstains on his hand.

At first glance, the scared bartender had thought a robbery was about to go down but a closer look at the man showed something different. Aside from the anger that was evident on his face, one could also see he looked devasted. That look wasn't new to the bartender, after all this was a bar, everyone had something bothering that made them end up here to drink away their sorrow. But the bloodstain was new. The bartenders first instinct had been to call the police but he decided to wait a bit. Maybe this was just another lost soul trying to find solace in the arms of sweet sweet alcohol.

He filled the glass and just as he was about to walk away, the man held his hand and whispered something to him.

“Give me the bottle”. Emeka said and released the arm of the bartender.

“Yup. Another lost soul” the bartender whispered to himself as he walked away.

Emeka emptied his glass in one gulp and began refilling it. He wasn't going home anytime soon. He needed to stay far away from that house as possible in other to avoid him doing something he will end up regretting.

The bloodstain of the pastor was still on his hand and he wasn't ready to add that of his wife just yet.

Emeka could remember having some sort of weird feeling that Amaka was cheating on him. He didn't know why he felt that way, call it instinct but he just felt something wasn't right somewhere. So being the religious man that he was, he had opened up to his pastor about his worries, the man had even prayed for him. The pastor said something about the devil wanting to tear down his marriage and they had both prayed against it. The man had even collected some huge amount of money from him for doing the "Lord's work"

Meanwhile, all this time he had been the devil tearing down his marriage; Emeka thought to himself as he placed the bottle back on the table. He was no longer making use of the glass, drinking directly from the bottle was faster.

Emeka grimaced as the thought of the pastor humping his wife on their matrimonial bed came rushing back into his head. He had grabbed the closest object he could find and smashed it into the man's head before walking out. Emeka knew it had taken the special grace of whatever spiritual being that was up there to prevent him from killing the bastard right there on his bed. Instead he had walked straight into this bar to clear his head and he intended to do just that; Emeka thought to himself as he motioned to the bartender for the third time that night, his bottle was empty.


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6 comments
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Inasmuch as this is a fiction, I can say this is what is happening in the world. Someone you had poured your heart to will be the one to betray you. That is bad. The pastor is so evil to have done that.

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True. Crazy things happen these days.

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This story has real feeling of brokenness to it, one that is enough to get a man questioning his faith. What do you do when your place of worship and the love of your life are a source of hurt? The feeling of being lost resonates here.

Great story.

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Betrayal is devastating. Betrayal by one you love, and another you trust, can be shattering. Violence is never the answer, of course. Just a reminder about Ink Well community rules: violence against women is prohibited. You have not portrayed that here. Just a reminder for the future.

This is an effective portrayal of crisis, seen from the eyes of a third party (the bartender).

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Thanks for the reminder. I have no intentions of breaking the rules of this fine community.

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