Jane walks past the bar, its door open to the summer evening. How wonderful to step inside, clink a frosty mug with those of others, join the ritual of shaking off the workweek.
But it could never be like it was back home. Clack of balls on a pool table, shrieking laughter of women with too-big hair and too-tight jeans, jukebox blaring country music she only likes with draft beer and too many cigarettes.
The Longhorn Saloon. How she’d loved that dive. Of course, last she heard it changed hands and was Bob’s Place or something.
Jane walks on.

Every week, Charli Mills hosts the Congress of Rough Writers and Friends flash fiction challenge. This week’s prompt was “longhorn.” Come read fun flashes from other writers!
The odd draw of such a place. Ever since we left north Idaho, I miss a frosty mug of west coast IPA. The details have to be right, it’s not just about the beer. Love the “clack of balls on a pool table…” sequence. There’s much about homelessness that has nothing to do with an actual home, but of lost connectivity and social activities.
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Exactly!
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