Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 120

bad idea. Still and all, he was happy he’d met Bill.
The tavern wasn’t particularly busy. It was on a back
street of a small village on an unremarkable island,
normally frequented by middle-aged Greek men, with
no interest in leaving their muttered conversations
and games of dominoes. Stewart knew he was a quiet
drunk and guessed that was why he was tolerated
there. On the next island there were enough Englishmen starting fights and vomiting in the streets that one
who just sat quietly and drank was almost welcome.
Mind you, Bill had seemed to fit in alright. Stewart
guessed that that was what happened when you stayed
there long enough. You became part of the fabric of
the place, part of its story. Enough musing. He donned
his sunglasses and headed out into the village to find
something to eat.

of her paperbacks splayed over the arm of the chair
with its spine cracked. But he didn’t really believe it.
And, he told himself sternly, he was supposed to be
here to not think about her. He looked at the clock and,
stretching the truth somewhat, told himself it wasn’t
too early to get to the bar.

“Yes, special holiday. Tonight, no one goes out. All
closed, all the men. No men.” She seemed very serious for what he guessed was some local tradition. He
signalled understanding, which seemed to please her
hugely judging by the smile on her face. “Remember,
stay indoors!” she called after him as he left to return
to the apartment.

As he left the apartment, it took him a moment to
realise that the village was quieter than usual. In fact,
there was no one around, except one of the usual stray
dogs. Snuffling through some rubbish, it bolted as
soon as it saw him. He walked on alone past the whitewashed buildings, shadows lengthening in front of him
as the sun began to set. Maybe there was something in
all that talk about not going out, he began to think. But
soon he could see the lights of the tavern, on as normal. The warnings were just a joke played on a gullible tourist. I’ll show them who’s gullible, he thought
as he pushed through the doors, expecting laughter or
surprise at his entrance. He received neither. The bar
was empty. The lights were on, the door was open, but
the &Rv2