O

ne early afternoon I stopped in a local bar in North Port, Florida. This is not a bar the tourist frequent as the bar has no water access or gulf views, is very dimly lit, smells of smoke and is very dirty. The locals park in the back to seek autonomy from the busy highway and its travelers peering eyes. The bar was full of patrons and I saw this incident and wrote this short bit of prose.

Abused -------------------

H

air disheveled, clothes to match,

Eating fries, drinking, smoking.

She is talking to herself.

“You’re a good dog; here, have some food.”

There is perpetual chatter, just her and the imaginary dog,

Which is her.

A man appears; her equal.

“Look at my pet monkey.” He flips a switch.

The monkey dances on the bar.

“Mine is different. It had a different colored hat.

I found it in a dumpster.”

He puts his hand on her shoulder and

She freezes, no smile, a blank stare, no talking …

He goes to the other end of the bar.

“You’re a nice dog, you didn’t do anything wrong,

you’re a nice dog, you’re a good dog,

you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Much later.

Leaving her purse, she walks to the other end of the bar,

She sits down, she is still talking to herself.

They both stare at there drinks,

She is talking to herself.