OutKasted — Then Gone With The Wind — Atlanta Nights

There was a bar on the Southside of Atlanta—
named after Scarlett O’Hara.

A name that still means something—here.

The owner was a big fan of the movie—
you could feel it in the name… the vibe… the whole place.

A fiery, drunken piece of history.

Like it had been there longer than it hadn’t.

Margaret Mitchell still lived in the bones of that place.
Her city.
Her story.
Her shadow.

And in the mid 90’s.

O’Hara’s was the spot.

Packed most nights—
the kind of place that had its own pull.

Lights low
Laughs loud
Song and dance soaked in whiskey—
beer… and sweet drinks of every color.

A place where stories were made—
not told.
This one included.

Me and two of my good buddies—
grew up together…
went to school together—
now doing grown man stuff together.

But there was this guy…
his mind was set—
he wanted trouble with my boy…
and he just wasn’t gonna quit.

All night—
on us…
pressing…
running his mouth.

Alright though…
just words.

We left it alone…
stayed cool…
tried to anyway.

I even tried to squash it—
real calm… real respectful.
To him… that was weak.

And some… they read silence wrong.

On our way to the car…
it wasn’t looking good…
dude right behind us.

Words turned into steps—
steps about to turn to hands.

I knew what was coming…
and yep… he did it—
put his hands on my friend.

I was hoping—for him—he’d choose bigger.

That was all I needed.

I locked on him—
threw him over the hood—
let my hands go.

Fast.
Clean.
Final.

And just like that—
it was done.

He slid off the hood…
out cold.

I didn’t leave him—
I don’t roll like that.

We picked him up—
got him off the pavement…
laid him in the grass—
made sure he was alright.

Checked his breathing…
made sure he was with us.

Then we went back in—
let the people working there know what happened.

Stayed put till he came to.

But just between you and me…
frankly…
back then…
I just didn’t give a damn.

…

Then…
we were gone—
with the wind.

…

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

`’.,°~