In a land where you wont get shoved by a stranger for standing to close to them, feel the comfort of fur beneath your behind instead of a toilet seat that has most likely been used for activities other then urination. Where the only loud bounding noise is the voice in your head telling you, you forgot to write the essay that is due in like 3 days ( I really should be writing that.) Where there isn't for some reason strobe lights, like isn't that a hazard? they should probably have a epilepsy warning on that, right? But instead, lights are comforting to those most sensitive to light. I give you, my friend. Who I have never met. Bee and bat night and day bar!
Ayla beamed, cutting the ribbon, to her adoring crowd of absolutely no one but her concerned yet still slightly proud friend. Wondering if opening a bar with someone so chaotic ( good) was the right decision. But of course it was, it was a spontaneous idea at 3am yet somehow still quite a good one. Because and quite frankly, people need to be more inclusive. She thought about going to night clubs in her university days, the loud noises, the people. How she could low key only bear to be in a place like that because of the concerning amount of alcohol she shoved in her system. And she wondered why, her classmates at the time thought she was an alcoholic.
" Do you think we'll get anyone in tonight?" Ayla jumped, her constant and overflowing tanket of energy waning Fraya's patient just a wee bit. It was off course 7am.
" Ummm, I mean its 7am so maybe a few spirits on there way to passing over might stop in for a milkshake or too."
" I really hope so! maybe Mr coin purse! I just really want people- or spirits! to see the giant fluffy bubble-bee I ordered!" Ayla said with no doubt in their heart that what their friend said was sarcastic by any means.
" And... why exactly did you get those?"
" WE ARE CALLED BEE AND BAT I HAD TOO FRAYA THEY ARE MYCHESTIC CREATURES OF EXTREME BEUTY AND GRACE."
" Of course you did" Freya laughed patting her friend on the head, this was gonna be one hell of a week. And she knew she'd get the occasional prick, but her training in not giving a fuck and briefly in martial arts would help with that.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Humans and other communities.
Whiskey At Dusk
Guess the whiskey was more important to you in the end, wasn’t it? It was more than the well-being of your friends; more vital than showing up to the places you promised you would and could come to; more critical of a matter than fulfilling your damn responsibilities and getting the press off your back.
By Snarky Lisa5 days ago in Humans
Essence, Embodiment, and Relational Reality
The Failure of Reduction and the Need for Synthesis There is a persistent failure in many modern attempts to explain what a human being is. Some frameworks reduce the person entirely to matter, insisting that identity, consciousness, morality, and meaning are nothing more than emergent properties of physical processes. Other frameworks move in the opposite direction, detaching spirit from reason and grounding belief in intuition alone, often at the cost of coherence or accountability. Both approaches fail because both misunderstand essence. One denies that essence exists at all. The other treats it as something vague and undefinable.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast4 days ago in Humans
The Duelist
The rays of a dying red sun flashed against the onrushing blade. The grey beards say the key to dueling lies in size, speed, reach, righteous fury, whatever the person in front of them pays them to say. Matteo knew better than any it was none of these and had an undefeated record on these sands to prove it.
By Matthew J. Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.