Waiting

‘That’ll be… 4.50 then please… Thank you - next time bring that card and you’ll get a free drink.’

 ‘Yeah I will- thanks.’

For some reason I’m always bemused by the fact everybody behind the counter will always treat you like your trying their patience or really dumb. I know serving coffee isn’t all that interesting but a bit of variety never hurt.

I placed my coffee on the low table with a bit but more force than I intended and a little of the hot liquid spills over the edge. As I reach for a napkin to clean up I realize my hands are shaking.

I still couldn’t shake his face from my vision.

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I blink. And again. This is driving me mad, really literally mad. I haven’t been able to sleep all week, I’ve completely lost my appetite and, worst of all, I’m seeing him everywhere I go.

I feel like I’m being haunted by my memory of him. I just feel like… I feel like something isn’t right – something isn’t how it should be. And it’s driving me insane.

I twist in my bed so I’m staring a the moon through a gap in my curtains. In my mind I run through the encounter with him again. God, why didn’t I pay more attention – I didn’t even see which direction he headed. I blink again. And again I see his strange auburn eyes as they bore into mine across a busy street.

I get out of bed and get dressed. Obviously sleep isn’t going to visit me tonight.

I’m going for a walk.

The End

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