Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-4832646-20140719051908

This is basically a draft, and an unfinished one at that. But I figured I'd go ahead and get some feedback so I can see whether it is a good idea to go further with it or not and get a general idea of where I am going with it. The general premise is a drunkard telling his friend how he lost his belief in God due to something he saw in a cave. So, feel free to leave feedback as you please.

I'd like to start by saying there's a nightmare at Dawkson's Creek.

At least, so my secular friend tells me.

My friend, David Tabler. The man is a drunkard; belligerent and disgruntled as they come. He spends most of his time at various bars around the city, downing glass after glass in a pitiful attempt to drown his troubles.

And this is the story of how he ended up like that.

It was a Thursday night. I entered my favorite bar, not expecting him to be there. But he was; drunk off his ass, as usual.

On the few times we'd see each other in the same joint, usually things would become a philosophical, yet hilariously drunken (at least on his side), debate of religion.

But tonight, he stopped me. Tonight he told me why he didn't believe in God.

I walked into the bar, and almost immediately saw him over at the counter. He rolled the ice in his empty glass and ordered another.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender girl asked him, a serious glare of concern in her eye.

"Lady," he replied with drunken slur. "When you've seen what I've seen, enough is never enough."

I stepped up and told her the usual thing when I met him.

"Don't worry. I'll take him home if he gets too bad."

I sat down beside him, and ordered a ginger ale. Ironic that I had a favorite bar, yet didn't drink much more than an occasional mild beer. Our night began with the usual banter, a laugh at a few jokes here and there, and his terrible attempts at flirting with the bartender.

But, after awhile, he turned to me, and asked:

"Did I ever tell you why I don't believe in God?"

The question was point blank and straight as an arrow. I had thought he was going to start yet another debate about it with me, knowing he had never said anything to me about why he didn't believe. I figured he would respond with "Logic" or "Reason". Casual and normal reasoning of a secularist.

But it wasn't.

"No, you haven't," I answered calmly.

He turned all the way towards me, rotating the chair in a drunken haze. I could smell the beer and vodka on his breath as he looked me in the eye and began to respond.

"In Ohio, there's an unheard of town called Dawkson's Creek. It's a nice enough little hamlet, but a boring place for a tourist. Hangs off an unmapped mountain, and to get to it, you gotta use an unmapped road.

You know, I used to travel the country. Back when I believed. I would go to all them caves, old forts, shit like that - I found it interesting, exploring the deepest parts of American history.

One day though, my truck had broke down just outside of Dawkson's Creek. I was out on the road to California when I was there; didn't even know it existed while I was struggling with Onstar; found out right after their local mechanic rolled around in his tow truck.

He gave me a ride, towed my truck to his shop, and told me I was gonna spend a good three or four days there. Nice fella he was. Paid for my stay at the local motel."

He swallowed down his last bit of vodka and ordered another glass. The bartender brought it to him, and told him it was his last.

He grumbled, and turned back to me.

"As I said though, it is a pretty boring little place. Not many sights to see. But, I decided on the second day to go for a walk around town; maybe go to a bar or some shit.

That was when I overheard a couple of the locals talkin' bout a cave off the mountain just outside of town. They said it was somewhere off the old dirt road to west of the place.

Hell, I knew where I was going. Dug through my bag for my ropes and my flashlight, and I went off toward that cave.

The moment I walked inside I shoulda known somethin' would go wrong. It was colder in there than usual; a cave is always a solid 60 degrees. Never above or below, accept by one or two degrees at most. But this cave - This cave was fucking freezing.

Still though. Kept headin' in out a sheer boredom.

There were a few slopes. I put some stakes into the rock - which was pretty weak for any cave rock, really. Attached my rope, and went. Left them there with some marker lights.

The cave itself was pretty damn interesting, to say the least. Pretty dank, had nicely sized stalagmites and stalactites. What was getting me though, was that there wasn't a single cave animal, and it appeared that I wasn't the first person to go in. I wasn't too surprised by the second one; town knows 'bout it, so somebody had to go in there right?"

He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. 