Excerpt: Speakeasy

To step inside the Seraphim was like to step within the warmth of a favorite, worn coat, familiar and cozy. Hanging above from the high ceiling were softly lit square lamps that looked as though they belonged hanging from the mast of a ship – old, black iron things all arranged in a line, diffusing low amber light over the wooden bar surfaces and walls, and the plush, deep red furnishings. The dim lighting gave the interior a dark, dusky look, giving the eyes a romantically comfortable haze to look through. Along the west wall the bar counter itself was aligned, one long wooden counter built into the opposing front and back walls. It was old, stained and worn from years of heavy use before it came into Jack’s possession, devoid of even leather padding to border along its edge. Behind the bar was no elaborate shelf, covered with bottles of international flare, half empty with all the labels staring back at the customers. Instead, a long aquarium tank sat along the same length of the bar counter, its blue light eerily lighting the workspace between it and the bar. The clash of colors between the yellow lights above, the blue lights behind, and the wooden, earthy colors of the bar itself made for a small supernova of brilliant hues that no one noticed, save for Jack himself.

The wall opposite the elongated bar were a few booths shaped like brackets, open mouthed toward the opposing wall as though hungry for patrons to sit. In the open space between the bar and the cushy booths were several round, wooden tables with enough space between for large groups of chairs, or should the opportunity arise, a spontaneous burst of dancing. Built into the back wall was a large enough stage for a four-person band and their equipment, flanked by smaller stages that held speakers; on days when there was no band, there sat the ever-present karaoke machine, perched upon the end of the bar for anyone with enough bravado – real or alcohol induced - to pick up the microphone. Beside the stage, a wide square arch led into a back hallway that was adorned by four doors – two bathrooms marked as ‘Saints’ and ‘Sinners, for women and men, respectively; the remaining two doors were marked as staff only in large block letters.

Despite the apparent simplicity of the Seraphim, the bar itself had been many things before Jack bought and gave it some much needed work. The previous owners had turned the bar into a nautically themed restaurant they called The Anchor, which played host to mostly unsavory characters in the early nineteen nineties, though no one was ever found to be breaking the law within its walls. The nautical theme gave the Seraphim it’s bar-length aquarium, while the short-lived renaissance inn called Yonder Balcony left behind the black iron lamps and a few small rooms above it that were previously used as a working inn. These days, though, the fully furnished rooms played home to Jack, giving the sometimes weary owner a short walk to a comfortable bed and a good night’s sleep. Jack would treasure such a short walk tonight.