Coffee, strong

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
You never notice what is happening around you, until it is too late.

Submitted: December 26, 2011

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Submitted: December 26, 2011



He sits alone with no company but the assistant behind the counter. A strong coffee reflecting his sombre attitude. Staring out of the window he sees the night sky unfolding before him. Street lights illuminating the empty road. A little restaurant and gas station in the middle of nowhere, isolated by the fresh air. Thoughts whether or not anyone else ever visits the place eluded him.

Gazing upon his own reflection he notices his dark eyes framed by the caverns of their sockets. His brow set in a firm furrow, concentration on a tempest of thoughts that ran through his mind. The grey of age, a streak through the darkened curls upon his head. Lines of wisdom around his mouth and resting on his cheeks. Long forgotten the gentle caress of a metal blade. A feeling of neglect.

The windows rattle from the magic of the darkness after a flash of pure malevolent force. A power not to be reckoned with, yet he does not blink. He just stares out into the bleakness that mirrors his heart. Shattered, distraught and torn from his chest. Not even the steam from his mug could melt the ice that burdens him as he brings it to his lips.

Thoughts of destruction plague his mind. Feeling like the floor has ben dragged from underneath him. Weights pressing down on his shoulders, caving in his lungs. The ability to breathe escaping him. He attempts to drink but collapses into the dark abyss beneath him.

If he wasn't so consumed with his own grief, he would have noticed that the place was decorated to celebrate the festivities. If the assistant was being more concerned, she would have noticed the blood pouring on to the floor. For both, they were too late. If only he remembered what the day was. If only she could recognise depression. But now, she stands there in a panic. The man she just gave coffee to, laid out flat, a knife in his stomach.

The last thing she remembers him saying on his last breath was, \"Merry Christmas\". Before that the only exchange of words was for his coffee, strong.

© Copyright 2019 Jiae. All rights reserved.

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