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This is my first attempt at a proper story so im sorry if its a half baked pile of poo.
It was a dark night, snow dropped canvassing the road in a glazed white slush. The figure of a man stood silhouetted by the lights of the pub windows. The man walked in and was immediately hit by a overwhelming fog of cigarette smoke that mustered up a slight cough. He surveyed the room at one side four people were playing cards and drinking pints and in the other a man stood choosing a song from the jukebox. The stranger walked over to the bar.
“You want something mate?” asked the bartender
The man just stood there staring, as the bartender looked into the mans eyes he could see a murky distortion in his pupils amongst the bloodshot. The bartender then looked him up and down, the man was dressed in black apart from his heavy brown trench coat.
“Are you alright?” the bartender enquired
“F…f…fine, although I could do with a pint”
The bartender continued to stare whilst pulling his pint, he wasn’t one to look but he had never seen such a shady character in his pub before. He handed the man his pint watching him walk towards a vacant table and sit down. The mysterious stranger sat drinking his pint when he was approached by one of the young lads playing cards.
“Oi you fancy trying your luck mate?”
“No” replied the man sternly
“Alright, alright no need to get worked up about it”
“Just go away”
“What did you say? I’d watch your mouth mate”
The man just sat looking at his pint waiting for the lad to walk away. The bartender overhearing this went over to have a word, the lads were known for their violent nature and the bartender certainly didn’t want any trouble in his pub.
“Look mate if you cant get along with those guys can you leave? When he said you should watch it he was right and I don’t want any trouble in my pub alright?”
The bartender stood waiting for a reply but the man just sat sipping his pint, after a few awkward moments though, the bartender retreated and left the man and hoped that he would take his advice. Minutes later though the lad walked back over to the man.
“Hey you couldn’t lend us money for a pint could you?”
“No I told you to get lost and I meant it, I’m in no mood to mess with scum like you”
The lad signals his friends and they all stood around the man each of them waiting for their leader to strike.
“Hey don’t do this in here, if you must take it outside alright?” shouted the bartender
The lads grabbed the man and chucked him out of the pub doors, repeatedly kicking him in the chest and face. The man couldn’t put up much of a fight and just lay there but after a few seconds the lads tried kicking him as hard as they all could with no success.
“Bloody hell where’s he gone?” exclaimed the lads.
He was a Nomad...
It was a dark night, snow dropped canvassing the road in a glazed white slush. The figure of a man stood silhouetted by the lights of the pub windows. The man walked in and was immediately hit by a overwhelming fog of cigarette smoke that mustered up a slight cough. He surveyed the room at one side four people were playing cards and drinking pints and in the other a man stood choosing a song from the jukebox. The stranger walked over to the bar.
“You want something mate?” asked the bartender
The man just stood there staring, as the bartender looked into the mans eyes he could see a murky distortion in his pupils amongst the bloodshot. The bartender then looked him up and down, the man was dressed in black apart from his heavy brown trench coat.
“Are you alright?” the bartender enquired
“F…f…fine, although I could do with a pint”
The bartender continued to stare whilst pulling his pint, he wasn’t one to look but he had never seen such a shady character in his pub before. He handed the man his pint watching him walk towards a vacant table and sit down. The mysterious stranger sat drinking his pint when he was approached by one of the young lads playing cards.
“Oi you fancy trying your luck mate?”
“No” replied the man sternly
“Alright, alright no need to get worked up about it”
“Just go away”
“What did you say? I’d watch your mouth mate”
The man just sat looking at his pint waiting for the lad to walk away. The bartender overhearing this went over to have a word, the lads were known for their violent nature and the bartender certainly didn’t want any trouble in his pub.
“Look mate if you cant get along with those guys can you leave? When he said you should watch it he was right and I don’t want any trouble in my pub alright?”
The bartender stood waiting for a reply but the man just sat sipping his pint, after a few awkward moments though, the bartender retreated and left the man and hoped that he would take his advice. Minutes later though the lad walked back over to the man.
“Hey you couldn’t lend us money for a pint could you?”
“No I told you to get lost and I meant it, I’m in no mood to mess with scum like you”
The lad signals his friends and they all stood around the man each of them waiting for their leader to strike.
“Hey don’t do this in here, if you must take it outside alright?” shouted the bartender
The lads grabbed the man and chucked him out of the pub doors, repeatedly kicking him in the chest and face. The man couldn’t put up much of a fight and just lay there but after a few seconds the lads tried kicking him as hard as they all could with no success.
“Bloody hell where’s he gone?” exclaimed the lads.
He was a Nomad...
Page:
Oh god no.
That was good I liked it. As good as my stories!
That was terrible and funny!
LMAO
'he was a nomad'
nicely worked around man - i should do that with my gingerbread story
heh heh
LMAO
'he was a nomad'
nicely worked around man - i should do that with my gingerbread story
heh heh
Edited it for a short crappy Nomad line at the end.
Nope not a resident, just needed a name.
heh.
Well, admitedly I did read this as a sorry resident of Essex.
You must be from there - obviously. Lads kicking the c**p out of others.. But I never come across strange disapearing blokes before.
Was good, nice use of description I could build up the imagery in my head without it being forced down my throat - and It was quite short with a nice twist that simply ended there.
You could, have the basis to start something bigger
Well, admitedly I did read this as a sorry resident of Essex.
You must be from there - obviously. Lads kicking the c**p out of others.. But I never come across strange disapearing blokes before.
Was good, nice use of description I could build up the imagery in my head without it being forced down my throat - and It was quite short with a nice twist that simply ended there.
You could, have the basis to start something bigger
This is my first attempt at a proper story so im sorry if its a half baked pile of poo.
It was a dark night, snow dropped canvassing the road in a glazed white slush. The figure of a man stood silhouetted by the lights of the pub windows. The man walked in and was immediately hit by a overwhelming fog of cigarette smoke that mustered up a slight cough. He surveyed the room at one side four people were playing cards and drinking pints and in the other a man stood choosing a song from the jukebox. The stranger walked over to the bar.
“You want something mate?” asked the bartender
The man just stood there staring, as the bartender looked into the mans eyes he could see a murky distortion in his pupils amongst the bloodshot. The bartender then looked him up and down, the man was dressed in black apart from his heavy brown trench coat.
“Are you alright?” the bartender enquired
“F…f…fine, although I could do with a pint”
The bartender continued to stare whilst pulling his pint, he wasn’t one to look but he had never seen such a shady character in his pub before. He handed the man his pint watching him walk towards a vacant table and sit down. The mysterious stranger sat drinking his pint when he was approached by one of the young lads playing cards.
“Oi you fancy trying your luck mate?”
“No” replied the man sternly
“Alright, alright no need to get worked up about it”
“Just go away”
“What did you say? I’d watch your mouth mate”
The man just sat looking at his pint waiting for the lad to walk away. The bartender overhearing this went over to have a word, the lads were known for their violent nature and the bartender certainly didn’t want any trouble in his pub.
“Look mate if you cant get along with those guys can you leave? When he said you should watch it he was right and I don’t want any trouble in my pub alright?”
The bartender stood waiting for a reply but the man just sat sipping his pint, after a few awkward moments though, the bartender retreated and left the man and hoped that he would take his advice. Minutes later though the lad walked back over to the man.
“Hey you couldn’t lend us money for a pint could you?”
“No I told you to get lost and I meant it, I’m in no mood to mess with scum like you”
The lad signals his friends and they all stood around the man each of them waiting for their leader to strike.
“Hey don’t do this in here, if you must take it outside alright?” shouted the bartender
The lads grabbed the man and chucked him out of the pub doors, repeatedly kicking him in the chest and face. The man couldn’t put up much of a fight and just lay there but after a few seconds the lads tried kicking him as hard as they all could with no success.
“Bloody hell where’s he gone?” exclaimed the lads.
He was a Nomad...
It was a dark night, snow dropped canvassing the road in a glazed white slush. The figure of a man stood silhouetted by the lights of the pub windows. The man walked in and was immediately hit by a overwhelming fog of cigarette smoke that mustered up a slight cough. He surveyed the room at one side four people were playing cards and drinking pints and in the other a man stood choosing a song from the jukebox. The stranger walked over to the bar.
“You want something mate?” asked the bartender
The man just stood there staring, as the bartender looked into the mans eyes he could see a murky distortion in his pupils amongst the bloodshot. The bartender then looked him up and down, the man was dressed in black apart from his heavy brown trench coat.
“Are you alright?” the bartender enquired
“F…f…fine, although I could do with a pint”
The bartender continued to stare whilst pulling his pint, he wasn’t one to look but he had never seen such a shady character in his pub before. He handed the man his pint watching him walk towards a vacant table and sit down. The mysterious stranger sat drinking his pint when he was approached by one of the young lads playing cards.
“Oi you fancy trying your luck mate?”
“No” replied the man sternly
“Alright, alright no need to get worked up about it”
“Just go away”
“What did you say? I’d watch your mouth mate”
The man just sat looking at his pint waiting for the lad to walk away. The bartender overhearing this went over to have a word, the lads were known for their violent nature and the bartender certainly didn’t want any trouble in his pub.
“Look mate if you cant get along with those guys can you leave? When he said you should watch it he was right and I don’t want any trouble in my pub alright?”
The bartender stood waiting for a reply but the man just sat sipping his pint, after a few awkward moments though, the bartender retreated and left the man and hoped that he would take his advice. Minutes later though the lad walked back over to the man.
“Hey you couldn’t lend us money for a pint could you?”
“No I told you to get lost and I meant it, I’m in no mood to mess with scum like you”
The lad signals his friends and they all stood around the man each of them waiting for their leader to strike.
“Hey don’t do this in here, if you must take it outside alright?” shouted the bartender
The lads grabbed the man and chucked him out of the pub doors, repeatedly kicking him in the chest and face. The man couldn’t put up much of a fight and just lay there but after a few seconds the lads tried kicking him as hard as they all could with no success.
“Bloody hell where’s he gone?” exclaimed the lads.
He was a Nomad...
Page: