A December Evening


It was December, cold winds were sweeping across the country. The weather had a mood to it, of mystery, intrigue, an Enigma. Dusk had begun to fade into night, The street was mostly empty with a few couples here and there, travelling in either direction on the street. Street lamps, artistically designed to recreate an industrial age Europe feel on the street, had started fluttering and coming to life.

One particular shop towards the end of the street, with red neon light board, that had just come to life- Anderson’s Bar, was as usual, buzzing with couples madly in love, singles looking for love, and a few players of the game of seduction. The bar had an ethereal touch to it, a hint of steam in the atmosphere-  combined effect of cold, breathing and cooking in one section of the bar. Its interior was designed totally in wood, with beautiful symmetrical floral patterns. The ground floor was a big open space, with a big bar towards the end of the centre, covered by the second floor that acted as a roof above it stretching somewhere close to the middle of the bar. Tables for two were aligned for couples at equal distances, along the walls, on the ground floor. Rest of the space was covered by circular tables for two.

The second floor was for people who were looking for a little more privacy to express their love. It had cabins. The bar was run by Anderson, Old Man Anderson as people called him, affectionately. He was making a small peg of Glenfiddich single malt 18 years, for his most mysterious customer. He didn’t know his name, for some reason he never asked him, he came to the bar every Saturday sharply at 7:00 PM dressed in a white Linen shirt, A Black suit tailor made to fit him perfectly, wore an Omega watch ( which by the look of it must be fairly costly but yet elegantly simple), smelled like Cinnamon, some expensive cologne most likely.  He sat there ordered four pegs of Gelnfiddich at an interval of one hour each and left the bar at 10:00 PM sharp. He never talked to anyone, came, sit directly at the stool one place from the right of the central stool, with his back towards the gate, Looked at Old Man Anderson and then in his Deep , Low yet powerful voice ordered his drinks. It was only when ordering his drinks he looked up at Anderson, His face devoid of any emotions or feelings, his Black eyes boring into him. Anderson had no clue what went on in his mind and for some reason he had no intention to know either.

Anderson gave him his first drink for the day, he lifted the glass, stirred it a bit, smelled the drink, took a sip and nodded in approval. Anderson knew that was the end of conversation and got back to his work, making drinks for the other customers.

He put the glass down, still lost in thoughts; Myriad of thoughts came to his mind at the same time. The drinks and the atmosphere helped him calm down and pick the important thoughts from the chaotic jungle of thoughts in his head. He reached for the glass and was about to lift it to take another sip when a soft hand with skin as smooth as the surface of a pearl gently rested upon his wrist. He looked to his left. She was elegantly dressed in a black gown, her hair were tucked towards her left shoulder leaving her right shoulder bare, a delicate one, But it was her eyes that outshone everything, her thin lips covered in glossy red lipstick, high cheek bones, a slight dimple on the right cheek, She had sharp features and her eyes were the sharpest, amber green, deep set, staring intently into his soul. She was beautiful, demure, a temptress.

“You are not looking for love here.” She said as if stating the obvious, in her deep sonorous voice, with a very slight hint of a question.

“Well No, I am not looking for anything. Especially not love” She looked at him, she could always tell when somebody was lying. No, He wasn’t lying. His deep Black eyes were firm when he spoke, not a muscle on his face betrayed his emotions. He was a puzzle, He didn’t reveal anything, even when he was reading her, he had the same blank expression.

“You don’t believe in love.” She said, once again in her matter of fact tone with a slight hint of a question.

“No, I didn’t”

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8 thoughts on “A December Evening

  1. Your articles are not meant to be read they are meant to be experienced 🙂 Could experience everything be it the chill in the air or magic in the last three words. Loved it 🙂 Way to go Mayank 🙂

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