It wasn't until he was fed up with his therapist's constant nagging that he finally acquiesced, he always does, eventually. It was hot. Not as hot as Afghanistan but hot nevertheless. He wasn't particularly fond of vacations or exotic getaways, but he had to give it a try seeing as Ella, his therapist, was absolutely convinced that it would help, and he, driven to his wits' end by all the nightmares couldn't but agree if only to shut her up.
Taking a look around he realised that perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea. It was a five a star hotel after all, something that he couldn't usually afford but his mother has left him a good sum of money after she passed away. He felt a twang of guilt that he couldn't ignore but she wasn't that much of a mother anyway. He shook head and stared at the building standing in front of him clearly impressed. The hotel/resort was like a traditional Mediterranean village nestled amongst lush gardens.
This could be good. Oh, this could be very good indeed. Thought John as he spun around to face the club car that was awaiting him. The young driver of said club car motioned him to take a seat and pointed at his luggage in the backseat indicating that he's ready to take him to his room. John hopped in and then he was taken there immediately.
His room was in a small building, separate from the main building. It had an antique look to it. Using the magnetic swipe card he was let in and at the sight he gave a relieved sigh and thanked whomever was up there for air conditioning.
The first couple of days were quite uneventful, and even though that's exactly what John's little escape was all about he found it utterly unnerving. This particular night however, was the worst yet. He was restless and so he tossed and turned sweating furiously. He'd gone to bed early and it was already 3 am now and he didn't get so much as a blink of sleep. He decided he had enough and removed the thin duvet that was now sticking to his body and before he knew it he was standing in front of a beautiful two-storey terraced building that the small brochure in his room declared as 'the place to be' and 'the best pub in town'. As soon as he stepped in the smell of alcohol and the sound of music engulfed him at once. What surprised him was that he found it pleasant. Very pleasant!
John took the nearest stool to the piano. A waitress, a very attractive one at that, approached him and asked in a heavily accented English whether he'd like to order. A beer would be just fine, said John and the waitress having taken his order walked away, hips swaying to the loud music.