Last Meal

“Ay, stranger, what have ye?” the bartender asked the thin man.

“Ale,” the thin man answered. “by the fire, as I am cold and tired.”

“You ain’t seen cold yet, my friend. Best appreciate these fall days. Not yesterday I learned to know the love of bare November days before the coming of the snow.”

“I know of no love such as that. I am sick of love, besides,” the thin man said wearily as he warmed himself. “I’ll be needing a room, too. And dinner.”

“I’ll fetch some stew.” The bartender handed a bowl to the man. The thin man looked up at him.

“Thank ye kindly, as this will be my last meal,” he said.

“How could you know this?” The bartender looked shocked.

“Foretold years ago by a gypsy. I am tired, heartbroken, and I am ready, sir. Let rest come.”

Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul. All rights reserved.

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Kim, the host of Dverse prosery writes: On this second Monday in November, when the weather is becoming colder and we are already pre-empting winter, at the dVerse Poets Pub we are writing Prosery, the very short piece of prose or flash fiction that tells a story with a beginning, middle and end. It can be in any genre of your choice, but it does have a limit of 144 words; an additional challenge is to hit 144 exactly. The special thing about Prosery is that we give you a complete line or two from a poem, which must be included somewhere in your story, within the 144-word limit. You must use the lines in their original order, however you may play with the punctuation so that your prose makes sense.

I have chosen the following lines to include in your prose:

“Not yesterday I learned to know
     The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow”

Prosery: My November Guest