"Hi there," Joe said. "What can I do for you, Sir?"
"I'd like something to drink", Dustfinger said. "A beer please."
Joe poured and set the keg down in front of the man.
"Here you go," he said. "You're the fire artist, aren't you?"
"Yes." Dustfinger said. He took a swallow from his drink. "What do you know that from?"
"I saw you perform out there a while ago," Joe said, nodding towards the window. "It looked great. Are you a professional?"
"I perform on fairs and in the streets", Dustfinger said. "It's the only one I know.
He drank from his glass and held it towards Joe to fill up again.
Joe topped up Dustfinger's glass and put the bottle within easy reach. "Do you have any repertoire to speak of to be performed inside?" Joe asked. "And how much would you charge for a show for my guests?"
"Show is better outside", said Dustfinger. "Inside is too dangerous with fire. Things burn."
He nodded at the chair Joe was leaning against and that showed clear signs of fire.
"So it would seem," Joe said. "No idea how that happened, though. The chair was singed already when I took over the bar."
"Fire is everywhere", Dustfinger pointed out. "And fire here don't understand any fun. It's really angry and aggressive. It even burn me."
Joe looked surprosed. "Fire doesn't burn where you come from?" he asked.
"It does, but not me", Dustfinger said. "It doesn't bite its friends there. I can touch and handle it and it follows me like a little cat or something."
Joe poured and pushed the glass at him. "This one's on the house," he promised. "And no, it's not. Nice and quiet, but without being boring." When we're not all plagued by all too vivid nightmares, that is...
Dustfinger lifted his shoulders. "I really just want to go home", he said. "But if I have to stay here, this place will be okay if I can get enough money to stay."
"I'd like something to drink", Dustfinger said. "A beer please."
Joe poured and set the keg down in front of the man.
"Here you go," he said. "You're the fire artist, aren't you?"
"Yes." Dustfinger said. He took a swallow from his drink. "What do you know that from?"
"I saw you perform out there a while ago," Joe said, nodding towards the window. "It looked great. Are you a professional?"
"I perform on fairs and in the streets", Dustfinger said. "It's the only one I know.
He drank from his glass and held it towards Joe to fill up again.
Joe topped up Dustfinger's glass and put the bottle within easy reach. "Do you have any repertoire to speak of to be performed inside?" Joe asked. "And how much would you charge for a show for my guests?"
"Show is better outside", said Dustfinger. "Inside is too dangerous with fire. Things burn."
He nodded at the chair Joe was leaning against and that showed clear signs of fire.
"So it would seem," Joe said. "No idea how that happened, though. The chair was singed already when I took over the bar."
"Fire is everywhere", Dustfinger pointed out. "And fire here don't understand any fun. It's really angry and aggressive. It even burn me."
Joe looked surprosed. "Fire doesn't burn where you come from?" he asked.
Reply
Reply
Reply
He moved around on his chair and put his arms on the counter.
"Are you happy here?"
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
From what he had seen, apart from the nightmares, it was nearly too nice and quiet here.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment