First December Drabble

The inn lay dark and empty this night as any other, according to some, due to it's awful reputation. The owner however, Mr. Crane, claimed it was due to the holiday season being over. Although, if that was to be true, the holiday season ended many years ago. Many people were confused of the fact that the inn could still be running, the owner couldn't have that great of a salary, considering the cost of the upkeep and the very scarce number of visitors. This had led to speculations, which had turned into rumors about the owner conducting illegal smuggling on the side, which had dampened the inn's already stained reputation even more.

Even so, visitors still came and went. A backpacker had one night gotten lost in the village and was dead tired when he saw the old and gnarled sign of the inn creaking and swinging back and forth in the slight evening breeze, it's once bright letters, now smudged by years of dirt and soot, illuminated by the last light of the day.

The backpacker first wondered if the inn was open or not, but when he turned the handle, the door opened slowly. ”Hello?”, he called shortly after he had stepped over the threshold. ”Anyone here?”

Mr. Crane who had been snoozing off in his usual manner behind the greeting desk awoke with a faint grunt. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. ”Aye?” He looked around. ”Oh a visitor! Welcome, welcome. A room for the night, is it?”

”Please.”, the backpacker responded.

After a few moments of conversing they decided on a room, when Mr. Crane offered the backpacker to join him for a nightcap. The backpacker gladly accepted. He needed some winding down after a long day of walking.

Mr. Crane led the backpacker to the dining hall. Only a few of all the round tables looked as they had been used recently, since the rest of them were all covered in a respectable layer of wooly dust.

“So where are ye' from?”, Mr Crane asked politely as he went to get a pair of glasses from a cupboard in the corner.

“I rather not say, if you don’t mind”, the backpacker responded rather stiffly.
Mr. Crane froze with his hand on the second glass. Secrets? Why could that be? He quickly changed his mind as a faint smile spread across his weatherbeaten features and picked up another, rather special glass instead.

They started to make pleasant smalltalk as Mr. Crane poured dark liquids in both glasses, at the same time being cautious to give his visitor the right one. Shortly afterwards the backpacker's glass fell out of his hand with a clank, as he collapsed on the table. Smirking, Mr. Crane hurried to the phone to make a call, not thinking, nor caring, that his recent actions had led to yet even more bad reputation, as a pool of drool started to form beneath the backpacker's open mouth.

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Word of the day:

Semi-smile n.
A faint smile; a surpressed smile or forced smile.

Wordcount: Exactly 500! HA!

Fun factor: 3/5