Lily decided to vacate the area of high-rise buildings with their multitude of glass windows. She ducked around the corner and sprinted down a side street. The world continued moving and she feared it would never stop. Lily felt too vulnerable out on the street. She stopped in front of an old building, the façade reminiscent of a vintage City Hall in New England– home. She pulled open the substantial wooden door and stepped into a dimly lit room that she quickly recognized as a bar. Standing there she suddenly realized that the world had stopped moving and she was alone.
Lily had no idea how long the earthquake had lasted. She tried to recall her flight from the Doctor’s office to the bar. She remembered nothing other than her fear. Lily’s eyes took in all the bottles of different liquors on the wall behind the long, ornate bar. She was about to head for the abandoned bar when the door opened behind her and a man and a woman leisurely walked inside. With the door opened, Lily expected to hear a cacophony of sounds and feel the blast of tropical heat that was Lima’s summer. There were no sounds, no heat.
Someone was talking. It was the woman. She was asking Lily something? All she could do was nod her head. The woman took her by the arm and led her to a seat at the bar. The woman sat beside her. The man went behind the bar and selected a bottle from the shelf. He placed glasses in front of each of them and poured a dark amber liquid. Lily lifted the glass and sniffed the liquid. She took a mouthful, feeling a pleasant tingling in her throat. The man was talking to her. He put his hand on hers. A gesture of comfort? Lily looked down at the man’s hand. He had six fingers. She looked over at the woman’s hand resting on the bar. She, too, had six fingers.
Maybe they were related and it was a genetic mutation? Lily suddenly felt uneasy. What language were they speaking? And the label on the bottle? In Lily’s twenty years as a linguist, she had never seen that language. Panic began filling her chest. Instantly she was alone in the bar… the world moved again.
My God where am I?
Prompt: Three people walk into a bar after an earthquake.