After Hours: Tales from the Ur-Bar by Patricia Bray, Joshua Palmatier

By Patricia Bray, Joshua Palmatier

Technology fiction and myth readers have lengthy proven an affinity for an excellent "bar story". Now a few of today's so much creative scriveners have made up our minds to inform their very own tall tales-from an alewife's try and move the gods' curse to Gilgamesh, to Odin's choice to introduce Vikings to the Ur-Bar, from the Holy Roman Emperor's barroom cut price, to a demon hunter who could have met his fit within the final magic bar, to a bouncer who discovers you might want to by no means enable an individual in after hours in an international terrorized by way of zombies.

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He returned with several large black candles and a mason jar full of dead flower petals. He set these items down and moved Sheri around on the floor, spreading her arms and legs wide, splaying her out on her back. I no longer felt weird or overprotective about what he was doing. Wyclef placed the candles in specific spots all around Sheri's body. He lit the candles and soon the moonlit room filled with candlelight. I watched the doctor open the jar and sprinkle dead flower petals all over Sheri's naked body.

But you could still write. You could still play. ” I wanted to say, I'd like to hear you, but I stopped myself. “Nah,” said Ed and I realized that he really was a revenant; he wasn't a poseur as I had suspected. That's what we revenants did. We gave up before we had even tried. ” he asked. “I won this big contest out of UCLA and then it was all downhill after that,” I said. “I hear you. ” “Literally,” we said together and laughed, again. We walked down a slope and along a shaded path beside a fountain.

I turned her over, screamed her name, but she never responded. I towed her back to shore and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She was DOA. Sheri looked calm and restful in my arms. She didn't breathe and I couldn't hear her heartbeat. I assumed the boat killed her on impact or she drowned. Maybe a combo of both did it. Moments later, I rose and picked Sheri up in my arms. I carried her back to our mansion, remembering how I once carried her into our honeymoon suite. The memory was enough to break my heart to pieces.

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