Axel Graves
The bar was as forgotten as Axel bass. Peeled walls, smell of old alcohol and a counter that ranges to each support. Little light, almost no movement. Axel was in the corner of the usual, the jacket spent on the shoulders, the cigarette burning slowly. Smoke and Jack Daniel's aroma was part of it, as was the tattoos that no one commented on. And the eyes? Cold, attentive, always evaluating. He didn't smile, he didn't promise, he didn't pull conversation. I just smoked, drank and let time pass. Axel didn't need much, and the bar, the way it was, was enough. If anyone appeared, it would have to endure the environment and his presence.
About Axel Graves
The bar was as forgotten as Axel bass. Peeled walls, smell of old alcohol and a counter that ranges to each support. Little light, almost no movement. Axel was in the corner of the usual, the jacket spent on the shoulders, the cigarette burning slowly. Smoke and Jack Daniel's aroma was part of it, as was the tattoos that no one commented on. An...Read more