White Lion

          To sit in a corner of a Welsh pub on a slow Wednesday, sipping a slow black stout occasionally enough to satisfy the barkeep, trying not to smile as the girls switch to Symric to discuss my curiosity and appearance.

        

  Gone are the days when anyone could come in and have a sip. I stand to take a large swig of the stuff my granddad weaned me with,wiping wet lips on a willing sleeve, then walk out back to the piss stone to relieve myself.

 

 I re-enter to the waiting watchers and sit slowly down beside my glass. I deliberately look into as many faces as possible while doing so to determine how much of me they now perceive.

Reading a bar is a well learned habit for any construction worker to have but somewhat unnecessary here,except for checking on who needs watching out for.

The girls are back to speaking English and the miners are busily discussing football.  I take my glass up to the bar and slide it towards the barkeep. 

"Thanks"

I say quietly and head towards the door.   He nods and answers me with a smile.

Reviews

[Taylor]

I very much like your style of writing -- you've created a scene, given a little history for the Main Character, but I'm not sure you really have a story here. For me a story needs to include some element of conflict and perhaps I've missed it, but I don't really see it. Maybe you'll say, "Duh, hon, look again." Anyway, I always promise to be honest and hopefully constructive. As a reader, I wanted more (which is a good sign). You've created the setting, introduced the Main Character and now where are we going? I'd love to read this again if you expand it. Let me know, please.

[Donald Meikle]

just painted a picture of unchanging Wales

[Terpsichore]

I like Wales; especially the rain, it suits the mood of the people; and at least you got a smile.

Cheers. T

[Beccy]

Reminds me of times when my father and mother would take my sister and I to what was then our local pub 'The Pilot'' wonderful view over Swansea Bay and ever so old fashioned.

Haven't visited in a very long while; (twenty five plus years,) so can't help wondering how much it may have changed. Enjoyed this so very much and glad you got a smile.

Beccy.

PS. My mother and father both speak Welsh, but we moved away at a very early age so it remains mostly a mystery to my sister and I.

[Donald Meikle]

It probably hasn't changed much You might appreciate my mother's interjection into a Welsh conversation as we were packing to leave "When you two decide how much to cheat me for the butter we're ready to go" " Oh I'm sorry we didn't think you spoke welsh" "I don't!"
She was psychic though!

[B]

its so cool how you write of being in the moment
we all live outside of the time we are experiencing

this is pretty cool