First Version
Noon. Midweek. One lonely drunk in a bar.
Acill watched in half-lidded anticipation as the barman poured three more fingers of the caramel colored liquor. He absentmindedly slid another silver coin across the rough wood of the counter as he accepted the tumbler. With closed eyes, he enjoyed the liquor’s wood and peat bouquet, savored its sweet bite and fumy burn. Acill’s drink never made it all the way back to the bar before he took another sip.
“Acill?” The voice was nasal, impatient, piercing, and Acill’s eyes squinted in pain. “You’re Acill, right?”
“Single malt,” his voice a muttered slur, both acknowledged and dismissed the would-be visitor. His eyes never left his glass.

Version 2
Noon. Midweek. Acill watched in half-lidded anticipation as the barman poured three more fingers of the caramel colored liquor. He absentmindedly slid another silver coin across the rough wood of the counter as he accepted the tumbler. With closed eyes, he enjoyed the liquor’s bouquet, buttermilk and oak, savored its sweet bite and fumy burn. Acill’s drink never made it all the way to the bar before he took another sip.
“Acill?” The voice was nasal, impatient, piercing, and Acill’s eyes squinted in pain. “You’re Acill, right?”
“Single malt,” his voice a muttered slur, both acknowledged and dismissed the would-be visitor. His eyes never left his glass.

Third Version
Acill watched in half-lidded anticipation as the barman poured three more fingers of the caramel colored liquor. He absentmindedly slid another silver coin across the rough wood of the counter as he accepted the tumbler. With closed eyes, he enjoyed the liquor’s bouquet, buttermilk and oak, savored its sweet bite and fumy burn. Acill never quite set his drink down on the bar before he took another sip.
“Acill?” The voice was nasal and shrill, dripping with nervousness and impatience. Acill squinted in pain. “You’re Acill, right?”
“Single malt,” his voice, a muttered slur, both acknowledged and dismissed the intruder. His eyes never left his glass.

Thanks!

[This message has been edited by nathanpence (edited August 25, 2009).]

[This message has been edited by nathanpence (edited August 27, 2009).]

[This message has been edited by nathanpence (edited August 31, 2009).]

I don’t like “Noon. Midweek.” It’s distracting to emphasize the time for no discernable purpose. Okay, so its lunchtime on a workday, and he’s apparently a drunk. So what?

I very much like the description of how he anticipates his drink, how much he relishes it. I’m not a drinker, but I wonder; would a person this far gone care how it smells and tastes? Or would he focus on getting that next after-affect from the alcohol? I remember my rebellious period when I would drink anything, no matter how awful, to get the buzz. But then I did know a recovering alcoholic who couldn’t allow herself to smell vanilla, because she used to drink vanilla to get the alcohol that’s in it—scent and taste are powerful stimuli. I think I’d keep it, because it’s so evocative.

I was confused by: “Acill’s drink never made it all the way to the bar before he took another sip.” At first I thought this meant he was somehow psychically drinking it before it was handed to him. Then I realized that the barman has already handed it to him—but isn’t he at the bar at that moment? Or do you mean Acill didn’t set it down ON the bar between sips? Ah, I finally got it, on the fourth reading.

The three adjectives in a row distracted me a tiny bit. Can a voice be nasal and piercing at the same time? How about: The impatient voice pierced... That also makes it more active on the visitor’s part, IMHO. Be aware that without Acill’s internal reaction, I read “Acill’s eyes squinted in pain” as observation not experience; it distanced me a tiny bit from his POV.

There’s something wrong in the grammar/punctuation of: “Single malt,” his voice a muttered slur, both acknowledged and dismissed the would-be visitor. Muttered a slur makes me think he said something additional, perhaps a swear word. Wouldn’t Acill know what he tried to say, even if the listener can’t tell? How about:
“Single malt.” Acill’s slurred response both acknowledged and dismissed the would-be visitor.

EDIT: Oh! Oh! You said "his voice a muttered slur", not "his voice muttered a slur". Still, the grammar says his voice acknowledged... but its Acill who acknowledged. I stand by my suggestion.

I like that he acknowledged and dismissed all at once, and that he stayed focused on the glass. Would intruder be better than would-be visitor?

I hope you will soon tell me whether or not I should be rooting for Acill, although the annoying voice of the other guy makes me think maybe yes.

Take what you like and leave the rest.

One thing I noticed, and maybe it's just how I read it, but I wanted to pause after "his voice," where there wasn't one. Maybe read it out loud and see how it reads. Maybe its just me.

I like it.