everything is nothing

by nick nelson

testing… testing… everything is nothing to the man who waits for nothing to take everything out of his pockets and put them on the final bar under the unblinking skull face stare of the last bartender before taking a final roundhouse punch to the smiling face of death in the final dive in the final lost dark island in the final hurricane on the edge of the expanding universe of nothingness… but a drink is still a drink. if the last bartender knows what he is doing. and if the last bartender, unblinking skull face stare or no, doesn't know what he is doing, then you tell him what to do. politely. and if he still doesn't get it, you ask him again. politely. and then, and then, if he still doesn't get it…. slim was suddenly awakened from his reverie. "why so glum, chum?" " i'm not chum, i'm slim." "yeah, you are, aren't you?" "i guess it's dark in here." "it is, isn't it?" "you get used to the dark." "especially when that's all there is." "that's right." "so what are we doing in the dark?" "it looks like we're drinking." "it looks like? it's dark, remember?" "i've gotten used to it." "you mean your eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness." "i guess that's what i meant." "why don't you just say what you mean?" "bleep you." they both laughed. buck looked around. "where's the bartender?" "i don't know. he can't be too far away." "true." "where is he going to go?" "same as us. nowhere." "you got that right." "all the same," said buck. " i could use a drink." suddenly the door opened… “this must be the bartender” but it was not the bartender…