When the Michael's truck made its rounds of Dreamwood it dumped large amounts of glitter on the streets. The glitter was dragged by the wind, winding its way into every nook and cranny of this small town. When Rick woke up he found the glitter had managed to seep through the thin walls of his apartment and cover everything. Rick looked around and saw the thin film of glitter glowing in the evening light. He swung his legs over the bed, walked across the room, and had dug through his dresser to find his work clothes, only to find that the glitter had oozed into all of his clothing. He tried in vain to remove the glitter from his clothing. He was going to grab his jacket for the walk to work, but he found that even with the thin walls in his apartment it was almost warm. Instead he ended up walking out of the house with his clothes drenched with glitter leaving behind small wisps of glitter on his way to work.
It was a slow Wednesday night a O'Harley's and it allowed Rick to dwell on the night of the wedding reception. He had finally found out the girl in his apartment was named Laura. She had a reputation around the town for "borrowing" others valuables after sleeping with them. Rick had found out about her reputation first hand when he got back from work; she had stolen his potted plant that he used for recreational purposes. Damn Rick thought to him self. He would have to buy a new plant and they aren't common in the small town either. Meaning Rick would need to take a road trip. Rick shook his head to clear his thoughts. To distract himself from this annoyance he looked around the bar. There were three people. This was a slow night even by Wednesday night's standards. It was probably because everyone was home sick this week. Some sort of flu swept through this small town seeming to get everyone sick. The door of the bar opened at 8:26 and some old guy with a weathered face and cane to match walked in. The old man walked up to the bar, sat down on one of the stools near Rick. He looked worn out from a long days work.
"What can I get you?" Rick said. He had seen his kind before. Just getting a drink to take the edge off.
"One shot of whiskey." the old man said while puling out his wallet. He laid down a five on the counter. Rick reached behind him to grab a glass and a bottle of whiskey off the wall, turned back around, poured the old man a little more than one shot in a glass, it was the cheaper bottle anyway. No big loss. The old man looked at the glass for a minute and took a sip. Rick went back to cleaning the glasses at the bar, which no matter how many times he washed there always seemed to have more glitter in them. The old man didn't say anything for a long while. This was no oddity sometimes people didn't want to talk and drink. A few minutes pass and Rick, out of boredom, finally broke the silence "So what's your story old man?"
The old man looked up from his drink and said "Well son I am Ángel, I have been here a long time. I work at New Hope."
"Well Ángel what are you doing out late aren't old folks usually sleeping about now?"
"It was a long day and I figured I could use a drink to relax," said Ángel. "but you are right, I am very tired. It was nice to talk, but I have got to be going," he grumbled.
"Alright Ángel careful out there." Ángel got up with the help from his cane and walk out of the bar. Well there goes my entertainment for tonight, Rick thought. He thought it would be amusing to see the old man drunk. He was sure there was at least one good story in him. One of the perks for Rick working at the bar was that he was able to hear what everyone's story was. Everyone liked talking when drunk. Rick in his somewhat short life had realized that stories were far more useful than money. Occasionally if the story was good enough he would give that person a free drink.