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The Aftermath of Heartbreak |
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Mercenary Mystery Dialogue |
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My Bittersweet Ending |
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The Mysterious Incantation |
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The Aftermath of HeartbreakAuthors Comments: Umm... Not a true story. Just felt like writing.
Creative
 Created on 9-9-08
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 Story Rating PG
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As she returned to us, she had a soured expression and a faraway gleam in her eye. She stared, not at us, but behind us, staring at some unseen visitor to the small-town coffee shop. And her look continually darkened.
She set down her drink and took a few quick strides to the newcomer who, as I turned my head, I could see was her last boyfriend, her least favorite and the only one to have hurt her. Grimacing, I settled in for what I was sure was going to be a painful sight. But no, rather than the slap I expected, she simply strode up to him and bestowed a greeting.
“Hallo, Ven,” I heard her say. “You come here often?”
“Yes…” His speech was halting slightly, as though he wasn’t sure whether to proceed.
“This early, though?” She glanced at her watch. Truth be told, 6AM in the morning was on the early side. I leaned forward to watch, and the small gaggle of girls around me ogled in anticipation.
“Yeah, actually…” He continued to sound hesitant. The fierceness in her returned and she placed her hands on her hips with a few biting words.
“Well, that’s funny, because I frequent this place quite regularly. Every week. At the same time. And this is the first time I’ve seen you here.”
He took a step back, surprised, and simply looked on in lost confusion as she said, “So either you’re here for a reason or you simply enjoy lying to me. Neither of which would surprise me.”
She started back toward the table when he caught her arm and spun her ‘round, catching her up and kissing her lustfully.
She did not respond.
When he released her, an apology lay revealed in his eyes, the pain and burden from the past open to anyone who would see. But all she did was lift a hand to her mouth and wipe her lips clean, then turn and proceed to our table.
The only thing in her eyes was the bloodlust of pain and sorrow, fiery hurt and chilling contempt, intermingled in an apathetic gaze.
And I could not help but be chilled to the bone.
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