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.
II. Dakota and Cheyenne’s Meet Cute
I was working at the Tech Team counter at the department store You Got It. As usual, it was a rather slow afternoon. Most people fancy themselves IT experts. At least, they use YouTube to fix their problems until their problems get away from them. That’s when they come calling.
It was one of those days where the minutes felt like hours and the hours felt like days. I could hardly wait for my shift to end. About five minutes before I clocked out she walked in. Actually, that’s not accurate. She more like tumbled in with her arms full carrying her laptop. I watched as she made her way to my counter and set her computer down. All she said was, “Fix it.”
“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?”
My shift was uneventful but long. Ten hours didn’t feel that long since my first years underground. Every noise I heard caused me to jump. Until I heard at last the bell announcing the shift change. I swallowed hard and walked to the checkout booth. It took all I had to keep my face as impassive as possible. Continue reading
The next morning I dropped my rent payment in my landlady’s mail slot on my way to work. It was still dark out and the temperature dipped below freezing. I pulled my coat tighter around me but it didn’t help with the chill.
I walked to the bus stop and waited. The normal crowd gathered waiting for the bus. A few of the others searched eyes of fellow passengers looking for understanding from last night’s events. So I wasn’t the only one affected. But one thing I learned in my years working in the mines is not to communicate anything. I dropped my head and kept my eyes to the ground to prevent anyone reading or misreading my eyes. No story here. Continue reading
I arrived home an hour after my normal time. This threw my routine off and left me feeling a little angry. With each passing day I was fortunate to grow older I relied more on routine like an anchor.
My landlady peeked out of her apartment when she heard me coming up the stairs. “Rent’s due,” she croaked. Continue reading
We sat in silence.
Of course we sat in silence. On the bus ride home there was always silence. Even though we sat in clusters of departments in the HUB. In the front sat the chemists. They mostly kept their noses face down at their screens. Presumably still working. In the middle sat the office workers. If there was occasional chit chat it came from this group. Usually from new hires. Soon enough they learned it’s best to keep quiet. They also kept their noses face down looking at their screens. Presumably they communicated with their families outside the gates. In the back of the bus sat the miners. That was my group. We avoided anything with lights and just kept our noses down and usually our eyes shut. At least, most of the miners did. I sat by myself and stretched out on the seat so that I could look out the window. Continue reading
Ethel sipped her coffee. She was amazed how much of a difference a spoonful of sugar made. Up until three months ago, she had always taken her coffee black – no sugar. It was just how she had learned to drink coffee. Her coffee drinking habits weren’t the only thing that had changed. It all started when Edward came into her life.
The other night I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” for the billionth and one time. Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration. I lost count after a million.