Description
The Man wasn’t drunk, yet, and the bartender wasn’t too worry. Thousands of problems would never stop filling a man’s head, but Whiskey never failed to dissolve it all. All things must pass, that having been said.
This is April’s midnight. Though it was not raining outside, the man should feel cold. “”Where’s his coat?” The Bartender thought for a while. Then another question came; "He is a regular at this bar, and never drunk as much as today. What on earth is his problem?”
Right after the question popped, a name came along with a stream of remaining whiskey in the edge of his lips.
“Maria…,” He whispered. “Maria…"
The Bartender smiled, and continue wiping the table.
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