- I was once a happy man, he said to the bartender.
The bartender's familiar face looked up at him and grined.
- I used to be the king of Moldavia, he replied.
Hank was too drunk to tell if he was being ironic or not, too miserable.
- Another drink, Hank mumbled.
- You seem to have had one too many already, said the man behind the desc.
Hank got flashbacks sometimes, mostly while sleeping, which he didn't do enough anyway. He counted on his fingers... It had been three nights since he slept. Feeling tired was better than being haunted by the happy past, which he missed oh so much.
As time passed Hank got more and more angry. Why wouldn't he get another drink? He needed another drink!
- Give me another drink, Hank shouted to the bartender and smashed his hands on the shiny wooden desc.
- Or what? The man grined at him again.
Hank realised something. He had nothing to lose, he didn't give a shit about what happened to the man in fancy clothes. Hank grabbed him by the throat and started punching the man in the face. The first few punches the man struggled back, he was in a state of panic. As the punches kept coming the man passed out, Hank didn't even notice, or maybe he didn't care.
When Hank finally pushed the man away, it came to his mind how serious the situation had become. He had killed a man, a father, a husband, a friend. People would miss this man. People would cry over the loss of their loved one. Nobody would cry for me, Hank thought.
His life was pointless.
Urgh, my entry sucks...