Eight years.
Had it really been eight years? Eight years of serving milk, soda, and root beer floats? Nate wondered this, and many other things, as he shoved the key into the front door to unlock The Tavern.
Situated on a long forgotten road in a long forgotten land, The Tavern had never really been much. A resting place for weary travelers, the occasional meeting area for a small group, and once the convention center for Orcs who enjoyed roleplaying as humans.
In all those years, of course, he had never fixed the shingles or the floorboards. The former still leaked and the latter still creaked. But the customers still came, and he recently signed a distribution deal with Turkey Hill, which served the finest milk.
The door now unlocked, he picked himself up through it and turned on the lights. After a brief interval of opening the windows, he put up a sign reading "Open: Serving Soda, Milk, and Juice!"
Fast forward another couple years...
Out of nowhere, Nate exclaimed, "This was the most liked work in December 2010!"
A weary bar patron looked up from his root beer float. "What is the Literary Spotlight?"
Nate shook his head, clearing the confusion from his mind. "Huh?"
"I thought we were playing Jeopardy."
"No, and that would still be wrong."
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