The tavern was loaded that night. Babette, the waitress, was running in all directions, hardly keeping up with the orders of the customers. While the dining room was pretty crowded, only five people were sitting at the bar that was also belonging to the tavern. It was called 'Big ol' Tom's tavern—the place where stories are told'. Big ol' Tom's customers had always been telling stories; it had been a year-long tradition....

It was a calm night. Only a handful of customers had found their way into big ol' Tom's tavern; just a few people sharing some short episodes of their lives while having a beer or two. That was until a young woman in her mid-twenties appeared. Her shaky feet gave away her insecurity. Hesitantly, she was slowly heading for the bar. “This is the bar. So that makes you big ol' Tom?” she hastily asked, her voice trembling. Th...

It was a Friday night. More customers than usual had found their way into big ol' Toms tavern. The tavern wasn't exactly overflowing, though. The old man himself was the calmness in person, easily keeping pace with the ever-recurring orders. “As usual,” some may say. One particular lady had been sitting at the bar the whole evening long, listening to all kinds of stories told by all kinds of customers. Stories of love, de...

A dark and rainy night. Roaring thunder. Even though nature's outburst of rage had caused a blackout, more guests than usual had found their way into big ol' Tom's tavern. Some of them for shelter from the pouring rain. The vast majority, however, for a good evening filled with stories being told at the bar in the midst of the dim flickering light of the many lit candles, for the tavern was also known as 'The Place Where...

“Who's in for another round?” Big ol' Tom, the bartender, offered. Leaning over his half-empty pint, his glass eye immobilized while the intact one stared at big ol' Tom, the elder of the only two guests replied, “Still nuthin' goin' on tonight, huh? An' I c'mere to listen to sum good stories, just like the ol' days.” “Well,” said big ol' Tom, “tonight's a bit of a shame, sure. But these calm nights usually do offer the b...

A cold, rainy night in late autumn. The tavern was crowded. Sound of people talking, laughing, cheering; a few storytellers surrounded by their respective audience, some guests sitting at the bar. A typical night in Big ol' Tom's tavern. None of the storytellers had, nevertheless, attracted the old barista's attention—so far, that is. That was until the heavy oaken double-wing doors opened once more. A man in his late twe...

I remember that fateful day in my junior year of high school when we were packing up our stuff at the end of the practical chemistry course. My lab partner tripped over a backpack someone had put in the way. He was holding a rather bulky chunk of sodium in his hand that he dropped into the sink where I was cleaning the labware, so it was filled with warm water. Once pure sodium hits water, it will form sodium hydroxide un...

“And that was the last one,” Big ol' Tom said, “now we've got ourselves a decent candle lighting again.” “Great,” replied Bethany, playing with the glass she had emptied for the third time. “May I ask you to fill that up again? Same vodka, please.” She nibbled on one of the earpieces of her shades, leaving her attentive audience in a short instant of anticipation before resuming her narration. She grinned and chuckled a b...