Red Maple

[serpent1ne]

The day after the Superbowl was generally quiet at the Red Maple Saloon. Most people had blown their cash and at least a week’s worth of calories on the championship game. A few fans might wander in to lick their wounds, but Boston was light on both Broncos and Panthers enthusiasts. As such, Ruby had plenty of time to lean on the bar and crack open peanuts. The bartender’s uniform consisted of a black tank top with a tree screen-printed on the front, jeans, and pair of cowgirl boots. A silver feather pendant dangled in her cleavage. An expensive jukebox played a medley of classic rock hits in the corner. The opening notes of the Eagles’ hit “I Can’t Tell You Why” added to her sense of lethargy.

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[alone_lily]

“My publisher, she’s unhappy.” Lily took a long sip before she continued. “Really, she’s a bit selfish. The subject for my proposed book killed himself this morning. I can’t raise someone from the dead. It’s out of my hands.”

“I should have saw this coming,” she shook her head, thinking to herself, I’m a psychologist. “I was distracted, became obsessed with all things about ghosts. Then the fucking bastard hung himself. What the fuck am I going to do now?”