The man leaned back in his chair and took another drink. Most of the other patrons had left the bar, and the few left were too intoxicated to notice his presence. They, like himself, were regulars, having no other place to go, and finding little or no joy in day to day life. They gathered here to forget, and, for the most part, they did a pretty good job.

This was how it always was. A long day at work, staying as late as he reasonably could, and then here. Better than going home to an empty apartment that made him remember. It was always better to forget such things. Such people.

If he tried hard enough, he could remember a time before he met her, and before this was necessary. But that time was long ago, and after so many drinks, he couldn't remember much of anything. He smiled at this thought, for that was the purpose of coming here. It had to be. The bar offered little else.

It was a dark place, with cracked paneling on the walls and cheap lighting. The windows, even in the day, never let in much light, creating a forgotten feel about the place, as if it didn't really exist, and he and the other customers just hadn't figured it out yet. The only pieces that made it real were the old television set, and the clock next to it.

Glancing up at the clock, he realized that it was indeed time to leave. Midnight had come and gone, and while he never really slept anymore, he liked to go through the motions. They made him feel a little more human. He rose from the chair, and put on his long coat. Picking up his glasses, he slid them on and walked towards the exit. No one looked up as he walked through the door and into the night.

It was going on two as he let himself into his apartment. Not bothering to turn on any lights, he made his way to the bedroom. Undressing, he set his glasses on the nightstand and pulled the covers over himself. From the bed, he could see the light on the answering machine blinking at him. He sighed, and rolled over. It was too early in the morning to care.