It was a month at least since you've seen the warm glow of that good ole neon sign. As it waves at you in the distance, You reflect on the last dive you encountered on your journey.

The bar was set so low. you had to walk down 4 steps to reach the front door. AN underground establishment of sorts this was. There were a few couples listening to the lonely melodies of a man gone mad with his own guitar There were bar fly's, just buzzing with their newest adventure. All the shit they saw along the way. You stayed for a drink and stuck to the paper.

There's only an instant moment of flashing sensation in your mind that tells you not to stick around this time. It's lost, the moment you reach the door.