<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you want anything to drink?\u201d the bartender asked.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The clock, fixed by the bar\u2019s black French door, ticked nine times.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThis is technically my first time at a bar,\u201d Warren said. \u201cI don\u2019t know. Any suggestions?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The mahogany counter glowed under warm orange bar lights. Warren came forward, resting pale, jagged elbows on it. His legs swirled languidly in circles and his stool creaked. Jazz crackled softly over the radio. Red nails clinked jugs and empty glasses.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cID, please,\u201d the bartender murmured. Warren pressed a dinged driver’s license to the counter. The bartender smiled, her glossy lips twinkling in the light. The red arcs of her nails lightly grazed the brittle card\u2019s plastic. She squinted, eyeing it lazily. \u201cYou\u2019re the first customer who\u2019s ever handed me a South Carolina license \u2014 and the first tonight. How about a whiskey sour?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSure \u2013 why a whiskey sour, though?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cJust because it\u2019s my favorite drink.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The clock ticked thirty-one times before the whiskey was fixed. Jack Daniel\u2019s, lemon juice, syrup, and egg white swirled and coalesced in a silver shaker, the bartender rattling it lazily, nails clinking metal. She poured the drink from the shaker to a ribbed whiskey glass and stuck a Maraschino cherry on its rim. Little beads of its red juice dripped slowly down the glass.<\/span><\/p>\n The bartender slid Warren his drink, glass clinking as it met the counter. \u201cEnjoy,\u201d she sang, pulling a rag from her wrinkly apron. She swiveled to the bar\u2019s rear and flicked the silvery faucet of a sink. She wet the rag and spryly wiped the counter.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhy doesn\u2019t this place get more business, anyway?\u201d Warren murmured, swishing his yellow whiskey in a lazy circle. He watched its foam bubble lightly.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s a club further down the block. Not sure what they\u2019re doing, but they\u2019ve got people hooked. They skip right past this place to go,\u201d the bartender said.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat place? What\u2019s it called? The, uh, Albatross or something like that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cClose. It\u2019s called The Seabird. You know that song by the Alessi Brothers? I think it\u2019s named after it.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI love that song! The Innovations version, too,\u201d he beamed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The clock ticked five times.<\/span><\/p>\n She only smiled, gripping her rag. She tossed it gently to the bar. \u201cYou ever heard that version?\u201d he jabbed.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d she said, wiping cherry juice and beads of egg from the mahogany. She wiped languidly, the bend of her arm harsh, and silently eyed a deep brown spot on the wood.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0Warren\u2019s fingers stiffened on his glass. \u201cThey turned me away \u2013 The Seabird. I don\u2019t remember the reason the bouncer gave\u2013it was so long ago\u2013but I guess he could tell I\u2019m an outsider.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m just,\u201d he paused, sipping, \u201cseparate from everyone else. I don\u2019t even really feel human. We\u2019re supposed to be social animals, right? Well, I\u2019m 22, and I\u2019ve never had any lasting relationships. No friends. No girlfriend. I thought things would be different when I moved away for school, but now I\u2019m a senior and everything\u2019s the same as it\u2019s always been. I thought that maybe at a club, I\u2019d suck up some of the other people\u2019s sociability\u2013dance with somebody, have a few drinks\u2013but I couldn\u2019t even get in. That\u2013 <\/span>this<\/span><\/i> just proves it.<\/span><\/p>\n The clock ticked seven times.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI was going to guess it was because your license is expired,\u201d the bartender smiled stiffly.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt is?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBy two days.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, why\u2019d you serve me, then?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She huffed. \u201cThis place is boring. No one ever comes. No kid would wanna sneak in here. But I get it. Being lonely really sucks.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201c<\/span>You<\/span><\/i> get it?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, sure. I just moved here in September. All of my college friends are still in Jersey\u2013I went to Rutgers. Why wouldn\u2019t I?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re just so beautiful. You\u2019re <\/span>beautiful<\/span><\/i>, Salem,\u201d he paused, staring up with heavy lids. \u201cI find it hard to believe that people don\u2019t naturally gravitate towards you. I\u2019d think if you had any problems at all, they\u2019d be the opposite of mine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She smiled lightly. \u201cI, uh, appreciate that. But,\u201d she paused, \u201chow\u2019d you know my name?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re not\u2013you\u2019re not wearing a name tag?\u201d he sputtered.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019ll tell you how I knew,\u201d he grinned, sipping. \u201cI\u2019m a psychic!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d Salem kidded.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cReally!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThen, shoot. What else do you know about me?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Warren grinned snidely, sloshing his whiskey. \u201cLet\u2019s see. Your name is Salem, of course. You\u2019re 24. You\u2019re getting your master\u2019s in public health at Drexel. Your bachelor\u2019s is in psychology, though. This is your second job; you also work receptionist at a nursing home. Your favorite bands are The Doors and\u2013Oingo Boingo, was it? You wanna dye your hair, which, you really shouldn\u2019t\u2013guys like natural girls. You\u2019re turning 25 in April, which scares the crap out of you. And you play piano,\u201d he prattled.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re one of Joshua\u2019s friends, aren\u2019t you?\u201d Salem sputtered. \u201cAnd this is his idea of a prank. He must\u2019ve sent you. That\u2019s what\u2019s happening, right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHave you been listening to a word I\u2019ve been saying?\u201d Warren groused. \u201cThat\u2019s not fair. I\u2019ve been listening to you, Salem, and remembering, too. I already told you that I have no friends\u2013not one in my entire life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThis isn\u2019t a joke?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDo I look like I\u2019m joking?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThen\u2013how do you know so much about me?\u201d\u00a0 she pressed.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m a psychic,\u201d he chimed.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re a psy<\/span>cho<\/span><\/i>, that\u2019s what you are. And I\u2019m about to call 911 and report you for stalking if you don\u2019t tell the truth.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou want the truth?\u201d Warren bit, hands shaking. \u201cYou told me all of this yourself. This is around the eighteenth time I\u2019ve talked to you tonight. I swear to God. I\u2019m stuck in some sort of time loop. It all happens over ten minutes. The set up is the same each time. I swing the door open and sit on this creaky barstool and you\u2019re here. You ask me what I want to drink and we talk. They\u2019ve been good conversations, for the most part. Until <\/span>now<\/span><\/i>. Then some guy enters the bar and he shoots you square in the head before you even realize what\u2019s going on and he takes all the money from the register and he leaves. Each time you die, the loop restarts. I\u2019ve been trying so hard to save you\u2013and for what? For you to yell at me like this? I don\u2019t know why I bothered in the first place. This is the longest I\u2019ve ever spoken to a woman, and I\u2019m finally starting to get used to watching you die.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Salem glowered, her breath heavy. \u201cBut it\u2019s been twelve minutes since you walked in.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The clock ticked six times.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou came in at 11,\u201d Salem said, tone hard but shaky, \u201cand now it\u2019s 11:12. I don\u2019t know if you\u2019re high or crazy or what, but you need to get out of here. Now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened to the loop? <\/span>Now?<\/span><\/i> It\u2019s ending <\/span>now<\/span><\/i>?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m done talking to you!\u201d Salem broke. \u201cNow get out of my bar, you creep!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Warren hurled his glass at the bar, shattering it. His yellow whiskey slowly blotched the mahogany and the burst cherry smudged it red. Glittering, jagged shards littered the bar. Shakily, he snagged one and jerked it to Salem\u2019s neck. \u201cDon\u2019t call me a creep when I\u2019m trying to do you a favor! Shut up, bitch, or I swear I\u2019ll kill you and reset the loop! And you\u2019ll die a dozen more times!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n The clock ticked three times.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIn all of the times you\u2019ve re-lived it,\u201d she panted, \u201cdid you ever think about just\u2013not entering? Leaving me alone? Why do you keep coming in? What are you trying to do?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m trying to save you, Salem! What don\u2019t you get? If I didn\u2019t\u2014who would protect you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou,\u201d she flared, eyeing the glittering tip of the shard at her neck, \u201cthink you\u2019re trying to protect me? Real hero, the guy cuts the necks of women in bars. You\u2019re a real hero, dude.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Warren\u2019s arm fell slowly, and the shard he gripped hit the tile. He paced to the door, head low. Pressing it, he felt the January cold, and his breath came in smoky puffs.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
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