Chapter 25 - Survivor's guilt

It was getting late, and the pub was growing quiet. It must have had something to do with the harsh winter weather, which was hammering the city hard these days. Tonight wasn’t different, and I thought perhaps it was worse than during the day.

I had taken on a few extra shifts to help at the pub and also work through the fact that none of my interviews for positions as a curator yielded any results. I hadn’t received one single phone call or email, letting me know I was accepted, or at the very least, considered after the very few interviews I had. It was radio silence.

I looked over at Jody and Wanda, who had cleaned their tables three times to keep themselves busy, and I wondered how long it would take them to decide to pass the mop on the floors—something we only did after closing.

I checked the bar to see if my customers needed anything else. When I noticed their heads down, looking at the drinks they cradled in their hands, I figured there wasn’t much to do but wait and clean the