A man (or, perhaps, the man ) walked up to the dark brown door of the soon-to-be-again bar. The FOR SALE sign still sat in the inside of the corner of the tall, curtain-less window. Before opening the door, the man looked at the sign and contrasted the red color of the sign with his light blue wool suit. It was definitely daring for the man to wear a wool suit in the summer, as a seersucker would have been much more appropriate for such a humid, cloudless day. Upon looking back at the door, before he could turn the knob, it twisted on its own in his hand, opened out toward him, and caused him to take a step back, his left Florsheim shoe almost, almost getting scuffed. “John, you’re here,” said the man who opened the door. His hazel eyes shone in the summer light. “I saw you through the window. Did you see me?” “Albert. I’m here,” replied John, now feeling the heat ins...
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