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a place for my responses to the prompts from Andre the Blog Monkey's Banana Bar |
Day 1 Prompt: It’s late at night, and you hear footsteps in the bar—but you’re definitely alone . . . or so you thought. It was after closing one October night and I was alone in the Banana Bar making sure everything was cleaned and stocked for the coming day. I had pulled late-nighters before, so I was at ease with the eerie silence of the empty bar. I had gone to retrieve more booze from the back room to replace what had been consumed earlier that day and when I came back towards the front of the bar, something had changed. At first, I couldn't put my finger on what was different and the not-knowing began to give me the Willies. Then the smell hit me. The rich scent of a Havana cigar was creeping through the air. It was subtle but it was definitely there! I walked around the bar, looking for the source but couldn't see anything in the room that could have caused it. The smell became stronger as I neared the stage though, and it began to saturate every breath I took. I looked around but as far as I could tell, I was still the only one in the bar. So, I attributed the smell to my vivid imagination and shrugged it off. But as I turned my back to the stage and was returning to my task at hand, laughter filled the room: deep, throaty, good-humored laughter. The smell of cigars also mysteriously increased greatly in the same instant. I was thoroughly creeped out. But then, who wouldn't be? I turned around and saw an apparition sitting in an old chair on the stage. My brain ran rampant with all the possibilities of what I was experiencing. Surely I'm going mad! Maybe I shouldn't have drank that last Banana-colada, or any of them for that matter. That's it! I'm just having drunken delusions! But the apparition spoke to me and as he did so, his form solidified. It was George Burns! "What's going on? Are you really here? How? Why?" I asked to the shade of the old comedian sitting in front of me. George laughed at my befuddlement. Words exploded from my mouth, "You can't really be real. This is all just my mind playing tricks on me. It's been a long day, I've had too much to drink. This has to be all in my head!" But George laughed again and said, "I'm real enough. Andre asked me to come by and visit with you for a spell. He told me he thinks you need a little more laughter and fun in your life. And after what I have just seen, you do indeed. Sit down and we'll share a cigar and some laughs." "But, George, you're dead! How can you be here?" I sputtered. He chuckled. "The best part of me isn't dead, just my body. Come on over and have a seat." So I did as he suggested and pulled up a chair next to his then went and poured myself a stiff banana martini. I knew it was going to be a long, long night. While I was pouring my drink, chattering laughter came from Andre's tree next to the bar. Andre descended the tree and made his way to the stage to join in on the fun, climbing up into one of the ficus trees that bordered the back of the stage. It was indeed a long night, but I learned a lot about myself through talking with old George. He even roasted me, although I am no celebrity. George and Andre helped me remember how to truly laugh. How to enjoy life, no matter the banana peels on the road in front of me set there to trip me up. At the end of the night, as we could see the sun begin to rise over the sea, I thanked them both for their efforts in reminding me that laughter is important in life and told them my goodbyes. George just chuckled. As his form was dissipating, his last words hung in the air, "Goodnight Gracie." Word count ▼ |