Thursdays, At The Hill

On Thursdays I like to drink at a bar called The Hill

The crowd is mostly mellow, keeps to themselves

I can catch a couple of drinks

And write by myself, usually uninterrupted

I find this bar to be full of ideas

I can watch the small details

Take note of the surroundings

Like I’m not even there

Like a fly on the wall

A spy, an apparition

Like a soft breeze, not strong enough to draw attention

When I’m done, I leave

There is no “goodbye”, no “see ya soon”, no “thanks for coming”

And I slip out, unnoticed

Small and irrelevant

Just the way I like it

And Thursdays are almost always

Pretty good days

© Dicky J Loweman 2015



  1. You are someone I would probably be watching out of the corner of my eye, but dare not approach. Although I would be dying inside to know what you are writing. I know better than to interrupt a writer in a moment of inspiration.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No one really ever asks in there. Strange, because any other place and people are nosy. I think I might turn invisible when I walk through the door. It’s pretty fucking cool. You would dig this haunt. It’s good time out.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Invisibility is a nice superpower to have.
        We all go to this bar called Rush, but Thursdays are insane there and i start getting annoyed by the crowds. We usually do a monday or tuesday there and its much more laid back.

        Liked by 1 person

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