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Bar at the Edge

Papoose Fiction: Edge of the Universe

At the edge of the universe there lies a bar with no bartender and a barstool holding the only patron.
The stool is wood, three legs triangulating down where the sheetrock hammered together into the shape of a bar is at its straightest, allowing for one person to lean comfortably forward for the remainder.
Times were hard on Vegas Argo, he had to steal what he couldn't borrow. Off to war or more alarming is the sorrow that follows tomorrow's horrors as arrows burrow passed the marrow but lessened in pain because Sir Argo's thoughts tread in the shallow.

Nobody's Fault

But it's not his fault; it's what he was taught when his teachers were forced to slave all day just for a few scraps of bread and enough change left over to keep the perpetual cycle as vicious as possible but not enough for the herd to grow suspicious something auspicious has turned them towards a meal quite delicious but hardly nutritious; three times a day and still malnourished; ravaged by disease every few years or so if not sooner. Measure the cycles by lunar rotations. Clock winding down as the maze expands ever so slightly. Just out of grasp, but if I just reach, I might get to clasp around my digits the gold shiny brass; a symbol of virtue for my last dying gasp, decades of smoking have left my voice rasp.

Laughter Infrequent

Oh they laugh when they can but that's not very often; usually at night when the sheriffs hunt for their prey but only if they can avoid sharing the bounty, so the targets stay small. Why hunt a tiger every week when there's plenty of rabbits and rodents to pick from. Require no effort of stalking and chasing; just come up to your door and invite themselves in for a meal. Now the focuses turn towards protecting the borders so we can be safe from any of the attackers trying to retrieve their dignity in tact, but their belongings we so rightfully stole in the first place has caused yet another attack.

The nerve of this second class citizenry defying the laws that are put in place specifically to prevent this sort of malicious rebellion from performing another revolting escapade.
And that's how I ended up sitting on a stool in the bar at the edge of the universe.

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