The typical villainous bar patron swaggered into the sodden atmosphere smelling of musk, wearing a tobacco stained shirt. The fact the patron owed a large bar bill shouldn’t strike you as odd. It had been well documented and distilled in history that a man of this reputation had no problem with owing anyone. Certainly not the man standing behind the bar, who provided him with his every need.
He stepped up to sit at the bar, at the same time his elbow knocked over a small vase filled with cowslips and suddenly he was struck with a memory. He was reminded of when he was a child and a sad look appeared on his face. This was strange because he was not the sentimental type.
The memory continued to drift in his mind reminding him of when he was a child, listening to his father play the violin. His mother would always place cowslips on the table in their small cottage and in the evening his father would play the violin. All of these memories seemed to strike him as very sad, yet endearing.
He mumbled a small apology to the bar keep and ordered a drink tinctured with a certain vile kept under the bar just for him. He didn’t always ask for the special vial to be added to his drink but with these memories clouding his mind, he wanted to be free of them. Asking for the special vial meant that he would transcend into a different type of mood where he could be carefree and enjoy his usual raucus behavior.
Indeed he was not a sentimental man but every once in a while something would trigger a dear memory.