23 February 2013

Short Story Saturday


            ‘I’ll have a coffee please.’
            Even though it’s ten o’clock. In the evening.
            She always preferred coffee over other beverages. Except for when she didn't.
            The slump-shouldered boy sitting in front of her was apparently on a quest to find hidden treasure at the bottom of his cocktail, as lazy ringlets of smoke went up from his nostrils with every exhale. 
            ‘Dude. The waitress told you to stir that thing, not fuck it.’ she half-joked. Completely disregarding her, the boy resumed his activity, watching the bubbles form and burst in the tall, rose-coloured glass. 
            She looked around, a sigh escaping her chapped lips. She licked them only to feel the rough edges of dried skin that was starting to peel off. As far as October children went, she was not too happy with being exposed to cold air.
            The place was nice, she had to hand it that. The music was not too loud, so conversation was possible. The coffee was warm and, surprisingly, not at all watery. The company was (somewhat) pleasant. Overall, it was a cozy evening in the city of Europe, at ten o’clock on the eighteenth of October. Her birthday. Her Day. The day in which she could finally make another wish. Wishes always came true when asked on one’s Day, you see. And she was planning this one ever since her 18th wish went all kinds of wrong.

            I can’t mess this one up. I just can’t.
            ‘So, what’s it going to be?’
            ‘I... I’m not sure yet.’
            ‘You are aware of the fact that in two hours-‘ But her friend never got to finish his thought.
            ‘Of course I am,’ she cut him off. Of course I am. ‘I just don’t know, you know?’
            ‘Well, you’d sure as hell better know, before that coffee – and your time for that matter - runs out.’
            Smoke was filling the room, as surely as the seconds were fleeing from the day. The waitress was growing impatient.
            ‘Have you decided yet?’
            This wish-coffeehouse was a bad idea.
            ‘Could I maybe ask for something that’s not on the Wish Menu?’ she inquired, pensively regarding the booklet.
            ‘No,’ came the sharp voice of the waitress.
            ‘Well then.’ Well then...
            ‘Well then?’ said the raised eyebrow of the waitress.
            ‘Then I’ll have another coffee.’


            ‘I just wish my human had more interesting wishes,’ said October the 18th, picking another star up and hanging it in her black hair.
            ‘Don’t worry, at least she’s not suicidal, like my kid.’
            The moon of October was visible in the night sky, hiding all the others. Twelve in total, all in a straight line, stretching out to the edge, taking turns in showing face as each Waning approached.
            ‘Point taken.’

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