Deep in the heart of the Salem slums was run down two story building with a sign hanging off it that simply read 'BAR'. The doorhandle was sticky and the windows were caked with grime. Beaming through that grime was a neon open sign with a diver above it. Inside the air was thick with 'old', almost as old as the furniture and the bar itself.
The bartop looks as though it could never be wiped enough, the layer of 'old' simply part of the wood now. The music that played on the jukebox was quiet. It felt right for the place, a man singing along with a blues piano. The back wall reveals a door to a staircase that lead upwards to the second level.
Behind the bar was a neon light of a well built woman in a scuba kit above the words "DiveBomb".
The world is made up of stories, not atoms. ~Muriel Rukeyser
