Been a while since last update. Been busy—no notable updates worth mentioning.
In the meantime, here’s a short story featuring a young drifter who stops in a small diner and finds himself caught in the middle of a conflict that may be much more than it initially appears.
“Hey, I already told you: you can’t sleep in here!”
I thought the cook was yelling at me, but he pointed at the woman sitting in the booth behind me. Her head jerked up, as if stirred from a bad dream. She had a single cup of coffee in front of her that looked like it had been sitting there untouched for some time.
“Sorry,” she said, rubbing her eyes. She glanced at her coffee and tightened the strap of her shoulder-bag. A cane or walking stick sat on her lap, wrapped in cloth. She held it close and looked out the window as if expecting something.
I didn’t mean to stare, but there was something very striking about her. She had long, dark hair and pale skin, which made her look almost like Snow White. She was beautiful, but looked exhausted. I couldn’t tell if the circles beneath her eyes were from lack of sleep or running make-up, but either way, she looked like she was in dire need of rest.
The cook appeared from around the back and approached her. “Look, lady,” he said. “I’m not running a hotel. If you’re just going to sit there all night, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” she said. “I’m fine. Really. I, um, I’m waiting for someone. Someone’s coming to pick me up.”
She took a sip from her coffee and offered a weak smile, as if to assure him she wasn’t wasting time or taking up space. I felt sorry for her and was tempted to say something on her behalf. From the look of it, even if she did have somewhere to go, she didn’t want to. Continue reading