DRUNKEN DESIRES AND DEFEATED HOPES

The neon signs blazed, casting long shadows on the forms huddled inside. Each one a tale etched in gin, each sip a chug towards oblivion. Some came for the convivial atmosphere, others to bury the harsh realities of their lives. The music, a blurring soundtrack, did little to mask the desperation that hung in the air like cigarette smoke. Out here