Five-Hundred Word Challenge 760: Horse Hours

It’s all horse hours here. Been trapped for a while. Can’t escape. Can’t get out. Getting comfortable at least.

The last time I saw the exit was… far too long ago for me to remember. Perhaps it wasn’t that long ago. Doesn’t matter, really. All that matters is that this is a place of entrapment and there is no escape until it decides that you are free to go. All I can do is sit here and nurse my drink and keep on biding my time.

Seems much like a sad bar, and that probably is what it is, though not necessarily in the shape of one. A lot of people sitting around. Some people chatting quietly, some alone, drinking. Me? I’m alone, drinking. Don’t care much for conversation. It might help pass the time, but it isn’t going to take my mind off of things.

Don’t even know how I got here. Just woke up and here I was, on the ground. Fully clothed in things familiar to me. Didn’t go to sleep fully clothed, but that’s how I woke up. Took a bit of time to walk to where I am now, though realistically it just formed around my whilst I was walking and then I was here. Found a seat in a booth. Found my seat, really. Now I’m just sitting here, nursing a drink so I’ve got something I can look after. Keeps the mind off things.

Sometimes I wonder as to how long some of these other patrons have sat where they are, trying to take their mind off of their situation? How many of them have come and gone? How many of them have chosen to stay, and how many have felt that they have no choice but to stay? My understanding is that the exit does open on occasion, though what the determining factor is, few, if any know. Once it is open, the choice is theirs. They can step through and return, or they can stay. What is to say that leaving this place means you aren’t going to come back though?

Then there are questions about what it is that leads to you arriving at a place like this. There’s a stillness and there is a certain atmosphere of destitution and desolation. Some people here seem to be trying to keep their head above proverbial water, whereas others seem to have thrown in the proverbial towel. Me? I’m just trying to cope and keep my mind off of the time I’ve already spent here, but I don’t know as to how long it has been. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here.

I feel as though it might be a good idea to cause a scene and create some sort of disturbance. Maybe that’ll get me thrown out, but there’s always a chance this place will dissipate instead, leaving me stuck elsewhere; besides which, the staff are pleasant enough.

Instead I’ll just nurse this drink and bide my time.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:00:87

So this started off as something that was likely going to be ridiculous and ended up being a bit more serious than anticipated. I think that as an idea I could flesh it out more into something better as a lot of it doesn’t get across the atmosphere I feel it should, but I do see potential within what I wrote. Feels a bit like a really rough sketch.

I kind of want to get rid of the opening sentence, but I don’t quite have the heart to remove it; it doesn’t quite work, but to me it’s somewhat-charming.

Written at home.

 

About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
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