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by Megan
Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1568114
Just something I wrote out a little while ago and kind of liked.
The fist time he saw her, she was  simply saw another waitress. She was pretty enough, reddish brown curly hair, hazel eyes. Unlike the other girls in the cafĂ© she didn’t have  a stick of a body. Her figure was classic, more of on hour glass, which earned her a second look. She flashed a generic smile and asked him if he would like a coffee. Her voice was pleasant enough, up close he saw shadows peeking through her foundation under her eyes and small bags. “coffee would be great.” He replied, meeting her tired eyes. She smiled again, flipping over one of the mugs pre-set on the small table. He didn’t give her a second thought after she left.


He saw her again two nights later, stopped at a red light. She drove a decent car, nothing all that fancy though certainly not shabby, a simple red two door coupe with a rusty patch near the left head light. She was busy belting out the words to some feel-good song he had never heard, though he could feel the bass booming from his spot at the cross walk. When the light turned green she turned left, away from him.


The third time he saw her he was smoking outside of the small hotel he was staying in. it was late out, the streets were dark and silent. while casually glancing around between drags, he glanced over at the shoddy looking sleep clinic across the street, she was walking out. Her hair was dishevelled, tossed roughly into a pony-tail. She was practically yelling into her cell phone demanding to know what was going on. She walked down the street, totally unaware of the lurking shadows.


The fourth time he saw her was at a bar. It was late and her friend has left with the car and another man to fill the passenger seat. When he walked out he was welcomed by her cussing into her cell phone once again.
“what the hell Nick? Why can’t you come get me?” she rolled her eyes as she listened to the reply on the other end. “Because she’s not answering her cell, that’s” … “why?! C’mon Nick! Please?” her mouth twisted down into a frown, her brows lowered and closed in on each other in irritation. “Ugh” She snapped the phone shut.
“Your boyfriend ditch you or something?” he asked her, leaning back against the wall, lighting cigarette. “Oh, uh, no. My prick of a brother won’t come get me. My friend left without me earlier.”
He nodded in understanding “I got a truck if you wanna a ride home.” She seemed hesitant for a moment.
But just a moment.
“Yeah, that sounds great. I’m Sicily.”
He nodded, “Ledah.”
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