On the way to the pub

I could really use a beer right now. It’s been a hell of a day. The echelon is to my left already. I’ve been walking for 15 minutes without meeting anybody. Touristic my ass. This place has less visitors than the cemetery on the Moon. Or maybe I’m on the wrong side of the echelon. I stop for a few seconds and look again to the thing, trying to guess if my target is hidden at the other side of it. Its diameter, around half a kilometer, is good enough to hide whatever is on the other side. It’s like trying to guess what’s on the other side of a mountain. Not that I have seen a lot of mountains, they are kind of rare around. Hills, a lot, mountains, zero. But the expression prevails.

I remember my first time at the Low Lands. And now that I think about it, I don’t pass by since years. When was my last time? When I graduated? How quickly the scene is changing? Owning a bar in such an area comes with some risks, if I were an owner, I could choose to leave as soon as my monetary expectations are fulfilled, then, I could take the money and buy a nice condo close to the new neighbourhoods, let’s say, around Green Leaves. But I’m not an owner. And with my salary, I’ll never be.

What was the name of that pub I liked last time I was there? ExMundi, or something like that. The name was, unfortunately, the only glamorous thing of the place. Yes, it was ExMundi, definitely. I put down my glasses and ask them to find me ExMundi. It takes it 30 seconds to project a virtual blue arrow over the path I’m following already. Good, so the place is still open, and it’s still legal. Maybe I’ll be lucky and they will still have that beer.


About bitsanddragons

A traveller, an IT professional and a casual writer
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