The Bar

The bar door opens. Tall slender blond walks in, takes a seat at the bar and orders a beer.

Older man, dark haired and eyed, looks at him curiously. “Beer?”

Slight smile as he takes a drink. “Old friends.”

Knowing look. “Ah. So it seems.” Takes a drink of his own beer.

Silence for a moment as the rest of the people think and then take drinks of various sorts.

“RIP.”

“Here, here,” a chorus of voices answered him.

He finished his beer in silence, set the empty on the shining surface and left. One soldier was gone, there were others left for the fight.

 

In Memoriam: Gerry Anderson.

With thanks for all the fun, joy and wonder he brought us.

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