National Novel Writing Month

I was told about this event by one of my friends and decided to partake.

A First and Final Journey
An elderly man sat on a ragged three legged footstool near the back door of the bar. This wasn’t unlike many other evenings, many other bars, and for that matter the man himself was painfully ordinary. The dusty dimly lit bar sat in the heart of Halsion’s mercantile district. Outside a worn sign above the door read “Crack Pot Bar” but, it was still possible with some effort to make out that the scratches in the old wood once gracefully displayed the words “Cracking Pot Bar”. The owner however never found it necessary to fix the old sign on the grounds that he thought it perfectly described his cliental just as it hung. The cliental were equally fond of the sign because they had come to a consensus that it held a significant implication to the sanity of the owner. The true meaning behind the sign holds little importance and has been obscured through the years and even forgotten by all but the owner, and had named his bar for his father who was an esteemed potter within the city.

To be continued...