From a distance, one would see a worn out one storey building. The exterior of the building wasn't really something to write home about.
The paint was already peeling off. The wooden door had all sorts of micro organisms growing on the door.
There was a signboard at the top which was supposed to highlight the words 'The Bar', in bold, glowing letters. Most of the letters had stopped glowing.
The inside of the building was way better than the exterior. There was a counter at the far end of the building. On the counter there were empty glasses faced down.
There was a short, middle aged man attending to customers standing behind the counter. At his back, there were shelves containing alcohol of different types.
In front of the counter were many tables. Some of them had two chairs placed at either side of the table, some of them had multiple chairs placed around the table.
Hori sat behind one of the table and took a swig of the alcohol in his hands. The events that occurred today kept playing in his head.
His masterpiece. His work of art, mercilessly disregarded and insulted by a bunch of ugly men sitting behind a table.
He took another gulp. The picture of the editor with the suit and diamond watch flashed in his mind.
"Your book is shit!"
"Stupid illiterates. You won't know quality literature even if it smacks you on the face". Hori took another sip of his alcohol.
After drowning himself in his alcohol, he stood up and started staggering towards the door. He didn't have any money left after buying the drinks. He'd have to move back in with his parents.
It was those stupid editors. How dare they shame his book?!
He moved to throw the bottle of his alcohol on the floor only to realize that he didn't have his bottle of alcohol with him. It was at that moment that he realized that he wasn't even inside the bar anymore.
He continued staggering towards his flat when he noticed something. Wasn't that the…
He staggered over to a young looking man on the street. "Excuse me but aren't you an editor from the editors' choice awards?" Hori's speech was a bit stretched due to the amount of alcohol that he had consumed. His mouth betraying the stench of alcohol with every word that he said.
The editor scrunched his nose. "Yes I am". He took a glance at Hori's appearance. "And who are you?"
Hori laughed bitterly. One day hadn't even passed and he'd already forgotten his face.
"You don't remember me?" Hori smiled bitterly.
The editor shook his head. His expression betraying the genuine surprise which he felt at that very moment.
The sound of fist pounding against flesh sounded at that very moment. Hori didn't even register what happened. All he knew was that a few moments later, the editor was on the floor.
The editor seemed puzzled. He used his hand to cover where Hori just hit him and stood up slowly. "You hit me?"
In response to that question, Hori's fist moved again, and the editor fell on the floor. His leg moved and hit the chest of the editor.
Hori was confused. It was as if he was moving against his own will. His leg moved again and hit the face of the editor.
And like that the next thirty minutes passss. The editor's face had turned into some sort of rainbow with different color combinations. His eyes had turned one shade of purple, his face was another shade of purple, he really looked like an eggplant at that moment.
After seeing the damage to his face, Robert smiled. He was about going away when he remembered something. Without any form of grace, he ripped the gold chain away from tbe editor's neck and also took the diamond watch.
His lips curled upwards when he saw his 'loot'. Now he wouldn't have to move back to his parents house.
He continued staggering until he reached his house. He turned on the light and was about to collapse on the bed when the corner of his eyes caught his laptop.
"I'll show you what thrash is". He muttered under his breath. He walked over to his laptop, opened it and started typing. "I'll show you".
After typing for about five minutes, his head capsized to his left. He had fallen asleep due to the alcohol that he had taken.
His face wearing a smile as he snored peacefully. For the first time since he threw his life away in his aspiration to became an author, he didn't have to worry about where his next meal was going to come from.
Maybe he should continue entering his book in contests and maiming the rich editors. He'd make a killing living like that.
"Heh!" He laughed bitterly.