Title: A hundred and two
Summary: Every year, this bunch of guys come to the pub and Elena wonders
Warnings: should I warn for sadness here?, yes, character death
Word Count: 247
Author's Notes: Sorry, not beta’d.
“Who are those lads?“
Mithian smiled sadly at Elena’s question. “We call them the ‘Knights of the round table’. They come here every year.”
“Just once a year?” Elena arranged the drinks on a tray and looked over the bar to the table where a bunch of blokes had left one seat vacant at their table.
“Remember that horrible accident that happened here about ten years ago?”
“Sure, who wouldn’t? That poor biker had no chance.”
“He was one of them.”
“Oh.” Elena swallowed hard. “So they come here to…”
“Yes, once a year, on the date the accident happened.”
“That’s so sad.”
“In the beginning it is.” Mithian looked at the tray. “We might get to see a tear or two, especially from the tall one over there.” She checked the tray. “Don’t forget the extra one.”
Elena nodded and poured another drink, one more than there were men. “And then?”
Mithian smiled. “Their friend must have been a fun one. The later it gets and the more stories they share – and I’m sure they must have told them a thousand times – the livelier they get. You know,” she blinked a tear away, “actually…I think that’s a nice way to remember a friend. I hope someone will do this for me when I’m gone.”
Nudging Mithian’s side with her elbow, Elena reached for the tray. “In a hundred years from now.” She threw her boss a grin.
Mithian smiled back. “A hundred and two, at least.”