The Wasteland
“Refill”
Andrew hit his empty glass on the wooden table, causing a loud bang that echoed through the room. The bar was unsurprising empty. The clock had just reached 12.00 PM and yet this man was already on his fourth pint of the day.
“Look, I only open this time of day for the people who sleep here. Not so some lowlife can spend the town’s riches so you can get drunk” the bar man replied to Andrews request.
Andrew looked down at the glass, his rough beard rubbed against his dirty stained T-shirt (which he had been wearing non-stop for as long as most of the settlers could care to remember).
“So, you going to leave?” the bar man asked.
Andrew stared at him for a few seconds; he didn’t look much cleaner then himself. He wore a brown jacket which was torn on his right sleeve and a red cap with the tip of it missing (the customers would always laugh at how his hair stuck up over the cap).
He then got up off the red torn stall and slowly moved towards the door, hoping not to fall over and hit his head on one of the dusty wooden tables.
Andrew opened the door; the sunlight hit him in the face with fury. He walked outside and looked around. The settlers were paying for fruit at the market. An old man was feeding some birds bread while the children chased each other slapping each other’s shoulders and shouting “tag.”
In was a normal day in the town of West-Decay (a suitable name for the town).
Andrew walked through the market, burping and passing wind as he went by. The people would give him funny looks and even walk away when his near.
He got to his home, a small shack at the dark side of town. He opened the door and walked in to a single messy room. Beer cans rest on the floor next to the piss stained boxers and hairs. A radio stood on a dusty wooden table playing jazz. Andrew walked towards his piss and shit stained bed beside the broken window which was home to a few drops of bird poo and rotten eggs which stench made its way to the single roomed home.
Andrew sat on it, looking at the door. The music faded. The radio host speaks out.
“And that was Tony Tomorrow with Love never dies. It’s my favourite track from Tony Tomorrow’s track list. Now, a request from a traveling Wastelander. One who I have met many times. He wants me to play his favourite song ever. Alice Anderson’s Key to life is up next. Enjoy.”
The song started to play. It was a soft song with a piano and a woman singing about life and death. Andrew looked at the table; behind the radio was a picture frame. He picked it up and looked at the photo inside. It was a picture of a younger him, back when he was a Wastelander himself. Memories of past that haunted him were starting to fade.
He smiled; his mind went back to a cold day in the winter of ‘55. He stayed the night at Dead lands (A place where all the gamblers go to get drunk and waste all their money). He placed a bet on a pair of aces in the game 21. There was £3000 to be won.
He put down the cards, the man who he was facing (he was a rich business man) put down his cards.
“Andrew wins” the woman announced and handed him his money. The next day, Andrew read the man got so depressed, he hung himself. He thought he was made of money. Turns out he wasn’t so rich. His company had gone bust and he gambled the rest of the money away. A true asshole.
There were so many different characters to meet in the Wastes. Why doesn’t he go back out there? But that thought quickly went and Andrew found himself frowning again. He was forty-three years old, still young in today’s standards. He could do anything he wanted. But he wasted the last three years of his life in this dump. Why was he here? Why did he stay? These were questions he couldn’t answer. He fell onto his pillow and looked up at the ceiling.
Where did it all go wrong?
Andrew opened his eyes to find a dark light passing through his window. He shot up and walked across the room, his radio was still playing smooth jazz songs.
“This is a request from another Traveller, goes by the name of Samuel and his trying to find his father. Please, if you’re out there dad, say something” the host announced before he played a song entitled The Search by Lou Tarta.
Andrew opened the door and looked at the sky. Stars shined down upon the small town. But Andrew didn’t care about that; all he wanted to do was buy a beer. He made his way back over to the bar where unlike earlier on, there were crowds of people.
“You’re back again” the bar man rolled his eyes.
Andrew just sat down on a stall, next to a young man with a black cap on his head holding a glass of beer.
“Hello friend” the young man smiled.
Andrew looked at him.
“I’m not your friend.”
The man smiled and put his arm around him.
“Do you know who I am?” the young man asked.
Andrew looked at the hand on his shoulder and sighed.
“I don’t give a fuck” Andrew replied.
The young man laughed as he downed the rest of the beer.
“My name is Samuel; I may be your son.”
Andrew remembered what the radio host said, could it be? Could this be his long lost son?
“I have no son” Andrew replied as he got up off his stall.
Samuel shrugged at smiled at the barman.
“You know what to do” Samuel said.
“Like father like fucking son” the barman replied, taking the empty glass and filling it.
Andrew stood outside the bar doors. The town was empty.
“What a mess” he laughed as he stumbled his way across the town.
“Hey!” a voice called out to him.
Andrew turned round to see Samuel running towards him.
“Hey!” he repeated.
“Fuck off” Andrew sighed.
“Hear me out. You might like what you hear” Samuel smiled.
“Hear you out? Listen kid, you may be my son, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you” Andrew replied.
“Mum was right. You are a cunt” Samuel said, walking back towards the bar.
Andrew watched him as he made his to the door.
“Stupid Kid” Andrew laughed.
He turned round to see two men with Iron Pipe in their hands.
“You are one dumb fuck” one of the men spat.
“Great! More kids” Andrew rolled his eyes.
One of the men hit him over the head.
Andrew fell backwards and put his hand on his head as he felt a liquid fall down his arm.
“Go and die” one of the other men shouted.
Andrew coldly stared at them. His hand turned into a fist and he pushed it through the air, striking one of the men.
The man went flying back, dropping his Pipe.
“Your turn?” Andrew smiled.
The other man went running off, amazed at what he had just seen.
“Astonishing” a voice called.
Andrew turned round to see Samuel walking towards him.
“Thank you” Andrew laughed.
“So, you sure you want to stay?” Samuel asked.
“Is it still as dangerous?” Andrew asked.
“Even more so” Samuel replied.
Andrew smiled.
“When do we leave?”
The Beginning….
“Refill”
Andrew hit his empty glass on the wooden table, causing a loud bang that echoed through the room. The bar was unsurprising empty. The clock had just reached 12.00 PM and yet this man was already on his fourth pint of the day.
“Look, I only open this time of day for the people who sleep here. Not so some lowlife can spend the town’s riches so you can get drunk” the bar man replied to Andrews request.
Andrew looked down at the glass, his rough beard rubbed against his dirty stained T-shirt (which he had been wearing non-stop for as long as most of the settlers could care to remember).
“So, you going to leave?” the bar man asked.
Andrew stared at him for a few seconds; he didn’t look much cleaner then himself. He wore a brown jacket which was torn on his right sleeve and a red cap with the tip of it missing (the customers would always laugh at how his hair stuck up over the cap).
He then got up off the red torn stall and slowly moved towards the door, hoping not to fall over and hit his head on one of the dusty wooden tables.
Andrew opened the door; the sunlight hit him in the face with fury. He walked outside and looked around. The settlers were paying for fruit at the market. An old man was feeding some birds bread while the children chased each other slapping each other’s shoulders and shouting “tag.”
In was a normal day in the town of West-Decay (a suitable name for the town).
Andrew walked through the market, burping and passing wind as he went by. The people would give him funny looks and even walk away when his near.
He got to his home, a small shack at the dark side of town. He opened the door and walked in to a single messy room. Beer cans rest on the floor next to the piss stained boxers and hairs. A radio stood on a dusty wooden table playing jazz. Andrew walked towards his piss and shit stained bed beside the broken window which was home to a few drops of bird poo and rotten eggs which stench made its way to the single roomed home.
Andrew sat on it, looking at the door. The music faded. The radio host speaks out.
“And that was Tony Tomorrow with Love never dies. It’s my favourite track from Tony Tomorrow’s track list. Now, a request from a traveling Wastelander. One who I have met many times. He wants me to play his favourite song ever. Alice Anderson’s Key to life is up next. Enjoy.”
The song started to play. It was a soft song with a piano and a woman singing about life and death. Andrew looked at the table; behind the radio was a picture frame. He picked it up and looked at the photo inside. It was a picture of a younger him, back when he was a Wastelander himself. Memories of past that haunted him were starting to fade.
He smiled; his mind went back to a cold day in the winter of ‘55. He stayed the night at Dead lands (A place where all the gamblers go to get drunk and waste all their money). He placed a bet on a pair of aces in the game 21. There was £3000 to be won.
He put down the cards, the man who he was facing (he was a rich business man) put down his cards.
“Andrew wins” the woman announced and handed him his money. The next day, Andrew read the man got so depressed, he hung himself. He thought he was made of money. Turns out he wasn’t so rich. His company had gone bust and he gambled the rest of the money away. A true asshole.
There were so many different characters to meet in the Wastes. Why doesn’t he go back out there? But that thought quickly went and Andrew found himself frowning again. He was forty-three years old, still young in today’s standards. He could do anything he wanted. But he wasted the last three years of his life in this dump. Why was he here? Why did he stay? These were questions he couldn’t answer. He fell onto his pillow and looked up at the ceiling.
Where did it all go wrong?
Andrew opened his eyes to find a dark light passing through his window. He shot up and walked across the room, his radio was still playing smooth jazz songs.
“This is a request from another Traveller, goes by the name of Samuel and his trying to find his father. Please, if you’re out there dad, say something” the host announced before he played a song entitled The Search by Lou Tarta.
Andrew opened the door and looked at the sky. Stars shined down upon the small town. But Andrew didn’t care about that; all he wanted to do was buy a beer. He made his way back over to the bar where unlike earlier on, there were crowds of people.
“You’re back again” the bar man rolled his eyes.
Andrew just sat down on a stall, next to a young man with a black cap on his head holding a glass of beer.
“Hello friend” the young man smiled.
Andrew looked at him.
“I’m not your friend.”
The man smiled and put his arm around him.
“Do you know who I am?” the young man asked.
Andrew looked at the hand on his shoulder and sighed.
“I don’t give a fuck” Andrew replied.
The young man laughed as he downed the rest of the beer.
“My name is Samuel; I may be your son.”
Andrew remembered what the radio host said, could it be? Could this be his long lost son?
“I have no son” Andrew replied as he got up off his stall.
Samuel shrugged at smiled at the barman.
“You know what to do” Samuel said.
“Like father like fucking son” the barman replied, taking the empty glass and filling it.
Andrew stood outside the bar doors. The town was empty.
“What a mess” he laughed as he stumbled his way across the town.
“Hey!” a voice called out to him.
Andrew turned round to see Samuel running towards him.
“Hey!” he repeated.
“Fuck off” Andrew sighed.
“Hear me out. You might like what you hear” Samuel smiled.
“Hear you out? Listen kid, you may be my son, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you” Andrew replied.
“Mum was right. You are a cunt” Samuel said, walking back towards the bar.
Andrew watched him as he made his to the door.
“Stupid Kid” Andrew laughed.
He turned round to see two men with Iron Pipe in their hands.
“You are one dumb fuck” one of the men spat.
“Great! More kids” Andrew rolled his eyes.
One of the men hit him over the head.
Andrew fell backwards and put his hand on his head as he felt a liquid fall down his arm.
“Go and die” one of the other men shouted.
Andrew coldly stared at them. His hand turned into a fist and he pushed it through the air, striking one of the men.
The man went flying back, dropping his Pipe.
“Your turn?” Andrew smiled.
The other man went running off, amazed at what he had just seen.
“Astonishing” a voice called.
Andrew turned round to see Samuel walking towards him.
“Thank you” Andrew laughed.
“So, you sure you want to stay?” Samuel asked.
“Is it still as dangerous?” Andrew asked.
“Even more so” Samuel replied.
Andrew smiled.
“When do we leave?”
The Beginning….