Hello, darlings, potatoes, and aliens! Welcome back. Yes, I’m already slipping on my promise to upload every day. But today I felt like crap (I just got a flu shot and for some reason had this terrible reaction to it) and I was doing homework and yadda yadda it slipped my mind. But here I am (a day late). Also! You most likely will not be hearing more of this story simply because I have no idea where it’s going and just found a new prompt I wanna try out. Welp. That about wraps up the intro. So. Enjoy.
Wordcount: 478
Wordcount goal: 500
Date: 16.10.18
The expected chatter of Elle’s fills my ears, surrounds me. I let myself get lost in it- the jazz and gossip and the plates and the coffee machine. Let myself disappear for a second. It’s fun to pretend.
I make my way up to the bar, where I’m greeted with half-lidded eyes and smiles and “Marina!”s. I give them what they want: half-lidded eyes and smiles so we can match. Pulling my apron off the hook, I assess this morning’s customers and workers. Anna’s working cashier, Den and Allie the tables. A few regulars are here, too. I see Beth, who’s mom just died and daughters just moved out next to John, an arrogant ass who orders ridiculous coffees every day. Ben’s serving his wife a tea, as always. Everyone’s where they should be, filling in the normal outline of each day.
Elle roams around front just as I move behind the counter.
Giving me a weary grin, Elle pokes me in the side and says her normal greeting: “Today’s the day, I swear.”
She’s talking about being Touched. She says it every day, like a good luck charm.
Elle’s big boned, full curves, and brown wavy hair, a total fireplace. Her Splotch is on her hand, bright and colorful. She’s basically my second mom, her mate, Lea, my third.
Checking the clock, I maneuver around coffee machines and my coworkers to get to the cashier. 7:30 am. Anna’s shift is over, leaving me ringing customers up. My least favorite job.
Customer upon customer comes up. Greet…ask…write…yell…serve…wait…repeat. It’s the same thing every time. Like clockwork. Nothing out of place.
Tick.
I eat a muffin during my break, chat with Elle and gossip with Allie.
Tock.
Ben’s wife calls out BEYNNNN at least once, spewing cake on the table.
Tick.
Each boy or girl that comes up elicits the same thought.
Tock.
Is it them?
Tick.
Are they it?
Tock.
I can’t remember a time where these thoughts haven’t come. Can’t remember a time before I cared.
Tick.
Cared about the way I dressed.
Tock.
The way I looked.
Tick.
Acted.
Person upon person, customer upon customer, they come and ask for coffee and thank me. For what? They leave and live their lives that I don’t know about. Pass by this life like it’s nothing, walk through this empty house with shoes on. They track muddy prints on my floor and don’t bother to grab the mop.
Come.
And we go on.
Go.
What’s the fun in that?
Tick.
In going on?
Tock.
In merely surviving?
Come.
But I do. I do. We all do.
Go.
It’s not them. It’s not that boy. Or that girl. No one bumps into me. No colors and love.
I wait.
Come.
And watch.
Come.
And wait.
Stay.
Thanks for reading! If you feel like it, comment. Tell me about your day or send me a cool prompt or what you thought of this or something. I hope you liked this prompt!
xxchloë