The bright lights behind the bar were in great contrast to the dark and dim atmosphere that surrounded it. The furniture was dark brown and there were lighter brown walls around with warn images of winged mythological creatures with lions heads and strong arms with certain claws directly painted on them.
One man was sat at the bar slowly mulling over his pint in deep thought. “Still waters run deep huh…” the barman said to the customer. The man nodded in agreement and stroked his beard in a contemplative manner. He then swilled his pint around and took a small sip from it.
The clock on the wall said a quarter past six as a large golden retriever wandered slowly towards the man and looked up with kind begging eyes, The man patted her head. The smell of malted dog hairs, hops and musk of unclean carpet merged into the warm air.
The man threw the dog a crisp onto the wooden part of the floor below him. Then dog looked down, ate the crisp and looked up again.
“Not no more” the man said as he took the last sip of his pint.
He slowly stood up, nodded to the barman and walked slowly to the exit. As he opened the door the sounds of rushing traffic and people talking outside overcame the quiet soft rock music in the pub as if there had only been c0mplete silence.