I was at The Twilight Zone, my usual haunt on Lark Lane, when he suddenly appeared at the table opposite me.
When I say ‘suddenly appeared’ I don’t mean he came through the door of the coffeeshop and sat down, I mean he suddenly appeared as in he materialised in front of my eyes.
We have a new baby and I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in weeks and I’m doing double shifts some days to pay for things and I was dog-tired and so perhaps hallucinating.
I returned to scrolling through my phone but couldn’t stop myself peeking at the man through the corner of my eye. He was about my age and the way he dressed and did his hair I wondered if he wasn’t into 1980s music. He sat and looked closely at the menu over the counter as if he had difficulty understanding what the words meant.
He turned round in his seat and faced me. He had a pale washed-out face and I took that to be part of his overall ‘look,’ what with him probably being a Goth or some such. I was certain I knew him from somewhere but couldn’t place him exactly. He looked through me with deadened grey eyes. I shuddered a weak smile of acknowledgement and then my phone bleeped.
It was a News Alert. I tapped the screen. The headline ran EXPLOSION AT COFFEESHOP MANY DEAD. There was a photo of outside The Twilight Zone blown to pieces.
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Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 