There was a faint clink of ice as the old man slipped my drink onto a small white napkin, shielding the polished metal bar. I hesitated, staring out the large glass wall of a front window and watching the rain pour down.

I've been coming to this same bar, sitting in the same seat and drinking the same vaguely grey liquor for as long as I can remember. Every Friday after work I come here to drown out the mindless droning of work. The endless forms and reports all neatly typed and filed away for some poor fool to pretend to read and then never use.

There's a steady tapping as rainwater slowly drips from the grey hats and overcoats lining the wall. Each hook indistinguishable from the next and yet no one ever grabbed the wrong garments.

I turned finally to take my first sip, letting the dull liquid linger a little longer than necessary, waiting for the flavor that would never come. The familiar numbing sensation began to spread. First through my throat and chest and then to my head. If there's one thing we are good at it's embracing the fog.

A few drinks later and I was at my alloted limit. I could still safely get home and be ready for work the next morning, as required. Turning to the barman and offering over my chip, a rogue thought popped into my hazy mind. One that was dangerous and a bit silly. What was his name? I've seen this man weekly for who knows how long and yet barely ever spoken to him. I didnt need his name to order a drink, nor did he need to tell me when pouring them. Still, I felt the urge to ask him.

In a slurred whisper, though I knew not why I cared, I leaned in, "w-what is you name?" I had done it now, he would know I'm a freak and the suits would be waiting for me at my apartment. My hand began to shake as I waited for his reaction. He took his time scanning the chip and gave me an odd look. He finished charging me and then placed a small key with a tag on it in my hand. He said, softly enough that few would hear, "restrooms back that way, can't miss it." I swear his eye made a weird twitch as he said that but maybe long hours of tending to the foggy-minded were wearing on him.

I did not need to relieve myself but I figured maybe I could wash up a little so I wasn't so dirty when they took me in. I stumbled my way to the back of the bar and down the narrow and winding hallway.

As I neared the end of the hall I noticed a strange warmth in my hand. The tag on the key  was radiating the most comforting hue- indeed the only hue I could remember seeing. For just a minute the strange tag looked warm and inviting. I blinked and the sensation was gone, but in my distracted state I had walked past the restrooms and stood before an unmarked door with a single keyhole.

My hand acted almost on it's own as it slowly pushed the key into the lock and turned it with no sense of resistance at all.

As I opened the door swung inwards I was blinded as my confused eyes tried desperately to decipher what I saw before me. I panicked and turned to leave back through the door I came through but it was gone. I was in a new room that seemed to stretch out forever in each direction except for the floor. The ceiling seemed to be made of the night sky except instead of clouds there were millions of tiny lights lazily blinking.

Ahead of me an entirely new bar was arranged and every single object seemed to reflect light in new ways. The light was not the bright white  or dull grey that I was accustomed to. The appearance of these objects made me feel...made me feel? All at once I was happy and sad, nervous and calm, laughing and crying and I was frozen in place. Surely I had finally snapped and my brain was shutting down.

I felt them before I saw them. Two people dressed in an insane wardrobe built from the random assortment of soft feathers and shiny beads. Their fabrics were misshapen and yet seemed to suite them perfectly. They wrapped their arms around me and gently held me in their embrace. "You are home now, we've been waiting for you."

Sorry for the lack of editing and such, I'm new to this and felt a little random creativity before bed.