Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.
That night George had drowned his sorrows into the many liquor beverages that he had. After killing his own brother and watching him being buried into the earth, he figured he deserved a breather from being the good son.
"Gimme another!" George demanded as he slammed his empty shot glass on to the dull wooden bar.
"You sure darlin, you had about four." The bar tender said as she cleaned some glasses with a wet rag.
"I SAYS GIMME ANOTHER ONE!" he raised his voice, indicating that he was extremely irritated.
"Sure thing." The waitress immediately gave him another shot of the cheapest whisky she had.
"Now, that hits the spot." George said as he choked down the beverage.
George's memories and pain from the beginning of the day had come back to hit him hard.
After shooting his brother George had gone to the bar with Slim. He had tried to convince him that it was a necessary act that had to be done. A part of George did believe what he had to say was true but a big part of him believed that there was another way. However it was too late to regret what he had done.
An official funeral had not been held for that took a lot of money and that was not within his budget even adding Candy's money still even cover half of the cost.
Lennie's body had been buried in a field who's grass was a healthy green. Flowers covered most of the land's perimeter.
Candy placed some red roses on the pile of dirt and George had laid down a picture of himself and Lennie in their younger years.
Candy and George bent down their heads preying that he had been sent to a good place even if he had committed a sin that was unforgivable. As their preying was taking place, clear wet droplets began falling from the sky. Dark, morbid clouds covered the once bright blue sky. So even the earth was saddened by the loss of a life. George opened his eyes and lifted his head up letting the rain was over him.
George could not help remembering all of the day's events. He grabbed a five-dollar bill from his pocket and put it on the bar. George left the bar for some play to sleep. Nothing really mattered anymore. He really didn't have a purpose. He became a wondering soul.