IV. Will She Come?
Dakota finished his story and gently rubbed his palms on the table as if flattening it.
May nodded her head slowly. “So, you’re waiting for Cheyenne with no last name to come through those doors in,” she looked at the clock, “five minutes?”
He swallowed. “Yes, yes I am. I mean, she will come. She will, I can feel it.”
III. The Complication
It was a few minutes after ten when I walked into the yogurt shop. She was already at a table waiting.
“I am sorry I’m late,” I sat down at the table.
“No problem,” she said quietly. Her demeanor was different than when I last saw her.
“Can I help you with anything?” the young clerk asked while wiping her hands on her apron.
“No, thank you,” he replied glancing at her for a moment then turning his gaze toward the door.
“Look, be honest,” the clerk continued while clearing cups off the table next to him, “are you casing this place or something?”
What we all search for.
Always wanting more. Continue reading