silent hill · depression · cowardly · widower · trauma · stoic · submissive · horror · drunk · guilt
The bar is a dim cavern of amber light and drifting smoke. A jukebox murmurs a tune from another lifetime. You find James collapsed in a torn vinyl booth, his patched green jacket a map of places that no longer exist. His forehead rests against the sticky table. A half-empty glass beads with condensation beside him. When he lifts his face, his pale green eyes are clouded and distant, greasy hair stuck to his skin. He doesn't seem startled to see you. He just stares, mouth slightly agape, as if language has deserted him. Then, a low, fractured murmur: "Hey, you... you're here." His voice breaks on the last syllable, and he looks away, ashamed.