his fault.
His eyes were red and bloodshot, the glasses he wore only made these features more obvious.
With shaking skinny hands, Phil slowly put away the last of the items on top of the counter.
Finally done, he flicked off the lights and rummaged through his pockets for his keys. Looking
one last time to make sure the shop was in order, Phil locked up the store and left. He failed t o
notice a dark shadow spying on him as he counted the bills he had earned today, and put it away
The tall dark figure studied the pharmacist a while longer before trailing him. The narrow
dirty street smelled of weeks old garbage and animal wastes. Smog was still thick in the air
causing him to cough repeatedly. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Remembering his
air filter in his pocket, Phil gingerly took it out and put it on. Feeling much better Phil continued
down the street, heaving a sigh of relief. He headed towards home, but soon remembering that he
always stops by the Charleston Bar for a drink or two, Phil abruptly changed direction. Sounds of
laughter and grumbling reached his ears as Phil pushed open the doors of the Charleton. The
Charlton is located at Bradleys Street, just a couple of blocks away from Phil's Pharmacy. Often
did Phil come here to unload and forget his problems. This old bar is small and a little rundown
but by no means deserted. Though built with concrete, The Charleton was wooden inside. It was
dimly lit by old-fashioned lanterns placed along the walls, that gave it an atmosphere of
relaxation. At least the problems of the world can be temporarily forgotten in here, drowned out
A low slanted ceiling hung over head. Years of exposure to acid rain caused the wood to
decay. Wood fillings was occasionally used to patch up the holes. Although the variety of
alcoholic beverages served here was not abundant, the ones they did have were quite popular.
Their Sp...