The shortcut (Story)

The haste is a bad companion.

He remembers a popular adage his grandfather used to say, "Don't leave for tomorrow what you can do today."

He admits it's his bad habit to postpone things to the limit.

For example, this trip he had to make yesterday and now he does it with just enough time to arrive at the six-monthly meeting of the company where he works.

He doesn't like to walk on dark streets, let alone the road he's on now, but it's his penance for not having done it before.

The player at full volume prevents you from making guesswork.

Halfway through, your mind is illuminated with an idea that will save you hours of travel.

It deviates by a shortcut that no one takes anymore, as it passes through a village with houses abandoned for more than half a decade..

There is little left of them, as you can see after crossing the population inhabited perhaps only by ghosts.

Half a kilometre away an old wooden house from what was once a road bar is the last vestige of something that was inhabited.

Exactly there the car alarm goes off, warning you that the car is too hot.

Courses for its interior, it will have to wait that the radiator cools down, since by the rush it did not bring the refrigerant for these cases.

Another option is for someone to come in and help him, something almost impossible.

He'll definitely be late for the meeting.

After turning off the vehicle, he opens the windows and the cold wind of the night hits his face.

There is a sepulchral silence, he looks at his cell phone and finds himself without coverage.

The moon is in the waning quarter and the darkness is almost total.

The dream overcomes him by several minutes and suddenly the music invades the silence waking him up.

He opens the door and leaves the vehicle trying to locate this one, but everything is gloomy and lonely.

Laughter joins the commotion and his ear tells him that they are leaving the old destroyed bar.

No doubt the imagination plays a bad joke on him, he thinks, yet he walks up there and the closer he gets, the clearer it becomes that it is the right place.

Open the almost destroyed door.

Their hinges emit a high-pitched chirp and all is silent.

There's no interior, just grass and bushes.

From the old place, only the destroyed façade remains and the sign that wobbles on top.

Am I dreaming? - He wonders.

A few seconds later, the music returns, everything comes to life again, a young woman dressed in sexy red attire and a provocative walk, approaches her and stretching her hand says:

-Welcome.

A week later, when a transporter sees the car on the road, he stops and obtains the corpse in a state of decomposition in the rickety door of the destroyed establishment.

About this and without a doubt, being the object that killed him, the notice that before was at the top of the wooden wall, where you can still read the word "Bar".