The Bar

Pepe Don had owned a bar when he was young. Mike and his sister decided, now that they were adults, they would finally open the door and see what was left of it.

He unlocked the door and the dust hit him. Coughing, he walked in. Becky kept her arm over her mouth as she followed.

"Look at all those bottles!" Mike ran his hand on the wood of the counter, picking up a layer of dust. Each bottle had a label and a tag on it.

"It is a bar after all." Becky shrugged and headed over to the piano. She plunked her finger on a few keys, the sound was pitch perfect. "This still works."

Mike looked at the tags on the mostly full bottles. His jaw dropped. "I don't think this was a bar, Bek."

"Look at this place, of course it was a bar." She played a few more notes, the music ringing out in wonderous tones. With each tune, the dust seemed to shake off the bottles.

"This isn't a bar. It's an apothecary," Mike insisted. Looking from one bottle to the next. None of which were labeled as alcohol. 

Becky sat down and played a full melody. 

He read the label of the last bottle. 'Drink what you're holding, boy, and you'll live forever. With me.'  Mike flipped it over. 'Pepe Don's immortality.'

Mike looked around, pulled out a glass from under the bar and poured the amber liquid. He drank with a smile.

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