Alphonse Maria Mucha La Dame aux Camelias

Alphonse Maria Mucha La Dame aux CameliasAlphonse Maria Mucha Biscuits Champagne Lefevre UtilePierre Auguste Renoir The First OutingPierre Auguste Renoir Sleeping GirlThomas Kinkade The Spirit of New York
SAME AGAIN, said a voice out of the shadows.
‘Er,’ said the barman. ‘Yeah. Sure. What was it?’
ANYTHING.
The barman filled it with rum. It was pulled away.
The barman sought for something to say. For some reason, he was feeling terrified.
‘Don’t see you in here, much,’ he managed.
I COME FOR THE ATMOSPHERE. SAME AGAIN.
‘Work in Holy Wood, do you?’said the barman, topping up the glass quickly. It vanished again.
NOT FOR SOME TIME. SAME AGAIN.
The barman They felt icy cold, and most of them were heavily corroded.
‘Oh, er‑‘ the barman began.
The door opened and shut, letting in a cold blast of air despite the warmth of the night.
The barman wiped the top of the bar in a distracted way, carefully avoiding the coins.
‘You see some funny types, running a bar,’ he muttered. A voice by his ear said, I FORGOT. A PACKET OF NUTS, PLEASE.hesitated. He was, at heart, a kindly soul. ‘You don’t think you’ve had enough, do you?’ he said. I KNOW EXACTLY WHEN I’VE HAD ENOUGH.‘Everyone says that, though.’I KNOW WHEN. EVERYONE’S HAD ENOUGH.There was something very odd about that voice. The barman wasn’t quite sure that he was hearing it with his ears. ‘Oh. Well, er,’ he said. ‘Same again?’NO. BUSY DAY TOMORROW. KEEP THE CHANGE.A handful of coins slid across the counter.