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Welcome to my story blog. I will post one new story here every day. You are welcome to comment on any or all of them. Enjoy!
                   --Lee Pound

Day 96 - Depression

Marty sat at the end of the bar, as far from the bartender as he could get. He nursed his beer, taking tiny sips from time to time in hopes that the mug would last most of the evening. He didn’t want to get drunk. He just wanted to escape for a while.

His mind ran through all the things he had to be sad about. His job was long gone and so was the money he’d saved up so carefully over the years. He’d long since sold the big house and rented an apartment in the low rent district. There wasn’t enough for more than that.

The thoughts kept coming, fast as he let them. If he wasn’t careful, he could get very depressed about it all.

And yet, there were good parts. He had to think hard to find them yet they were there. He still had a home, he had an income that covered the bills, and he had a jacket to wear on the cold nights when he came out to the bar. It wasn’t much but it beat sleeping on the street.

Marty knew he’d have to return to reality soon but this little corner of fantasy was worth it. The bar was quiet. It was close to midnight and he knew it would be closing soon. Soon he would have to head back out into the cold darkness, back to his apartment, where he would face the pressures of the day, whatever they turned out to be. It seemed like there was very little respite.

For a few minutes he sat still, staring at the mug of beer in front of him. It did seem to help, that mug. Not the drinking, not the alcohol, just the lack of pressure. In the bar there was nothing but beer and background noise. Nobody wanted anything from him, nobody wanted to give him anything, and nobody paid him any attention, which was just fine.

Marty sipped the last of the beer. He gathered his coat about him and picked up his hat. These visits to the bar helped. He felt less depressed now, after sitting here for two hours. The world seemed a bit rosier after doing nothing and staying away from the outside bustle. One beer was a cheap price to pay for sanity.

Marty stood, waved to the bartender, and walked out the door into the cold night.

Tomorrow would be better. Couldn’t help but be.

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