In the corner of listening and glass there lays a small bar called The Listener’s Glass. There are only two employees who work there. I run the bar and a part-time student who works so that he can pay for his college. Most of the time I’m in the bar all alone. A lot of really sketchy people like to walk into my bar. However, they make for the best stories.

*****

A grumpy stranger walked into my bar on a cold and rainy night. I could tell he just wanted to get out of the rain since he walked straight to the corner table and started to stare out the window. My part-timer complained about how he was rude and smelled. Apparently, he only wanted some water with lemon. My part-timer was grumpy for the rest of the night because of this, but I felt there was a story there so I walked up to the man with a sandwich from my breakroom and a glass of water with a lemon slice.

The second I approached the stranger he shot a harsh glare in my direction. Wow! He really was unfriendly, but that has never stopped me before. “I won’t pay for it he said.” The wrinkled in his face was more defined and I could tell that his hair had a rather bad dye job. The bags under his eyes told a story and I was determined to get it out of him.

“It’s okay, I just thought I would share my lunch with you. My son put too much ham on my sandwich and I’m not the biggest fan of ham.”

The stranger looked up at me cautiously as I extended half of the sandwich towards him. After receiving the sandwich, the stranger inhaled it like air. He seemed satisfied, but he definitely was not willing to let me in still. I sat down and ate the other half of the sandwich in silence. The stranger went back to staring out the window.

After I had finished my sandwich I had gone back to work. The man still sat by the window, looking out the window; playing with the straw in his water glass. His eyes were distant, sad.

My part-timer went home, my customers went home, and soon enough he was the only one left. I walked over and let him know that I couldn’t let him stay any longer, and even though it was raining, he left.

I never got a story out of that man, and to this day that bugs me. All I got was the feeling of immense sadness and hurt. Something drastic happened to that man, and all I was able to do was give him a sandwich. All I got was a deep longing for him to come back some day when he is ready to once more tell me his story. But I’ll never truly know what happened to him until he does come back… if he does come back.