*The image I got in mind while listening to Funkadelic’s Maggot Brain.
Jonah looked the street over. He hated the decrepit look of the stone buildings plastered with paper advertising, the cars driving along the streets with minimal effort to avoid the pedestrians crossing over, some of them almost or completely homeless. They blared their horns and received replies of cursing.
He fumbled into his pocket to pull out his half empty pack of cigarettes, taking one out and lighting it after two flicks of his lighter. The sensation of the smoke filling his lungs and letting it out in one deep and long exhale relaxed him enough to get on with his walk to Bernie’s.
The sun was already on its way down but the late summer weather was warm enough in the shadows covering the street. A couple in one of the apartments he passed seemed to be in the middle of their domestic fight, him being the worthless unemployed bum and she being the cold bitch. Just a little further a kid was crying for candy he had dropped on the floor.
He drowned out the noises from voices, radio music and traffic as he walked down the street, building his own little tunnel which would bring him to the bar he wished he already been at.
Near the bar he avoided making contact with the couple of whores trying to squeeze the last remaining bucks out of the suckers falling for their seductive suggestions. He had no time for those. He didn’t like a two minute satisfaction. If he had a woman, she should be worth it to hold in his arms the whole night.
He flicked away the last bit of his cigarette before opening the worn out door to the bar.
The usual quiet apart from the background music and smell of booze and cigarette smoke greeted him. Eddie Hazel was pulling off one of his guitar solos. He only needed to nod at the barkeeper once to order his usual shot of whiskey.
He looked at the middle aged man in a jacket at one table. ‘Frank.’ he said.
Jonah picked up his drink from the bar and sat down in front of Frank. He had never known him without the old black jacket, slowly but obviously ageing from wear all these years.