Losing All But The Fight. (complete) updated.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder I hopped the last step onto payment. Final stop. Welcome to the lovely but dirty city of Minneapolis. Just how I like it, easy to disappear...well for anybody except me.

Stretching my legs I began to loosen my muscles while I watching happy, tired people being scooped into the loving arms of family and friends. Others briskly walked away with rest and their own beds on their minds.

Throwing my hood up, I shoved my hands in my leather jacket and walked off. I would find my own way. First food then I'll figure out how my night will go. Despite the chilly wind the sun still managed to spark heat on my face as I walked, my healed boots clicking quietly on the side walk. Always did have a way of being light on my feet.

About an two hours passed before I figured the ins and outs of this part of the city. I passed lots of ally's and unmarked parking lots as well as a few garages on my way to the an area where the foot traffic began to pick up. Passing a few bars and breweries I peeked in the windows with my passing and kept moving. Having my own preferences in stops, I was trying to look for a place just out of the way and not so popular. Never could be the best of company.

Five blocks and I found a bar called "The Escape." Peeking in the window I got a clear view of most of the floor. Two people sat back by the kitchen with papers spread out on the table, busy work on something. Another behind the bar lifting bottles in search of spills or dust, with a cloth, his back to the window. Laughing at the absurdity of the name I pulled the dented blue metal door open and stepped inside quietly.

It took a moment to let my eyes adjust to the dim light inside after removing my bug eyed shades. Dust floated with the small streams of light spilling through the windows from the face of the building. Continuing on past the music box and a set of pool tables, I took a seat on the opposite side of the bar top curve. Tossing my bag on the third stool in from the back door, I took the next seat over, dropping my hood, I kept my head slightly tilted down.

Hiding? I don't want to really say that's what I was doing. I wasn't avoiding my problems. I just couldn't afford to be seen as I walked my careful path. I was accustomed to it. I hated it but I'd excepted it.  One missed step and I could fall.

Just under my eye lashes I caught the bar tender toss his cloth and come to stand in front of me. "What can I get you?" He asked, looming a bit over the counter.

I kept my head tilted down, my hair shadowing the most of my features. Just his waist and stomach completed my view past the cherry top bar.  "A large bowl of chili with a side of sour cream and a coke, please." My tone was confidently contradicting my body language.

He let out a short, deep laugh. "What if we didn't have chilli? What would you do?" His voice was a bit teasing.

Letting out a long quiet calming breath, I rolled my eyes and watched him through my lashes. I kept my head tilted forward hoping he wouldn't be a talker. I hated the chit chat. "Menu?"

He walked away and I waited. Shortly though the man's presence returned with a bowl of chill and the rest of what I asked for was slid in front of me. "Thanks."

I loved bar food. Having a slight obsession with chili, I tried to get a bowl in every new city I stopped in. Chili was the one food you could count on no matter the variety. Wherever you went it was usually home made, completely original, and crazy good. In all my traveling I've only ever managed to get burned twice on some horrible tasting bowl.

This bowl was... amazing. Sweet but spicy, with a variety of beans and red meat. I felt like I found treasure the moment the faint flavor of bacon and the perfect amount of green olives assaulted my taste buds. Oh, god, this must be heaven.