Excerpt: Regret Me Not

The Hidden Inn is a small, dingy pub, which claimed to be “a warm and welcoming bar”. James almost snorted into his beer at the thought. It was not warm, it was not welcoming, not bright, nor cheerful, nor comforting. It just was. It was dark, but not so dark you couldn’t see what you were drinking, or make out those drinking around you. It was cold, but not so cold that you couldn’t bear to be there. It did not encourage visitors, but could not persuade the regulars to stop coming. It was sombre and smoky, but not stiflingly oppressive. He had been to places where the very air seemed to choke you, and forbid the oxygen from passing through your lungs. Thankfully, here was not one of them. It was not a happy place though; its very walls seem to speak tales of bitterness and spite, regret and woe. It suited him perfectly. But far worse than that, it seemed to suit her.