The sawdust crunches under your feet like fresh snow as you walk across the floor, some sticking to your soles as you go. The piano player in the corner winds down as he realises the silence that fell as you walked through the door, all the eyes following you as you walk across the floor, the clop of boots on wood resounding in the quiet as you lean on the counter and speak..."Two pints of Fosters, one vodka cranberry, an orange juice and 4 chicken nuggets and chips for table 27 please... do you bring it over?"
For the full Saloon story go HERE
