Slow, shuffling feet move along the cracked and damp concrete of the worn sidewalk. Neither wizened woman speaks as they approach the most inhospitable of places to anyone of sane mind. Flashing neon signs blink various brands of beer and the deafening sound of buzz saws fills the air, guitar players ripping through their retinue with ease.
Eyes widen as the women enter the bar, making their way towards the largest of the crowds gathered within. None accost the pair nor stand in their way as they pass. Cigarette smoke and cheap liquor fills their noses as they plummet into the depths of a haven for lost souls. Yet neither cares while they stand at the end of the green felt.
The eight ball falls in the chosen pocket signaling the end of the current game. A stick of wrapped tobacco hangs loosely from the mouth of the pool shark. Scoffing, the blue tip of the cue raps against a worn and blood-splattered sign givi