Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Writer Wednesday: Coffee Date 1.7

Just a short little excerpt from something I have been working on. 


She wished she could have changed, or put on a little lipstick, or something. She felt dirty and messy. And he had dressed up for this. Maybe. He may have been on his way to work too. Who knows? Why today, kept wandering around in her head.
It was the sixth of January. The sky that morning had been crisp and damp, with little white snowflakes drifting downward onto her ski-capped head.
She had gotten up earlier that morning and had felt some kind of motivation. She climbed out of her warm bed, slipped on her dirty, worn running shoes and leapt out the door, layered and ready. The darkened streets had welcomed her though. No one was stirring and she raced through the neighborhoods with nothing on her mind. She floated and flew up and down the hills, like never before. Training partners were on their break and would be back next week. So these were her runs. She was still in her building phase, she would be for a while. Her fitness was improving daily, and she was just trying to keep it all going forward. The lights were her only followers along these early morning treks. Snow falling silently, but the beautiful crunch and crackling of the collection beneath her rubber soles was better than any pop hits radio station that morning. She missed the mockery and chitchat with her friends, but she passed the time listening to the sounds of the weather and the streets along the hill.
As her cadence slowed to a stop, rounding the bend in front of her little home on 18th Avenue, she saw the paper had come. She liked those days, out before the sun, home in time for the paper.
She stomped her shoes a little harder, tamping the collected snow dust on her shoes. There was a little something extra on that paper this day, a little sandwich baggie chock full of red m’n’ms.
She reached down and picked up the paper and the bag. She looked around the block, wondering if she was the only one with this bag, even though she knew she would be the only one. How did he find her?
She had been trying to escape for a long time. She couldn’t get out of her town, but she had found others to help. Though they knew him, she found a newer life than the one she had had. She moved on as best she could, but it was taking it’s great time.

Rounding her way from behind the counter that day, she looked to her feet, seeing the coffee grounds running down her jeans and onto her shoes, she noticed the stains ever-present on her white v neck, and she saw her hands burned and cut from the hot water and steam.
How did he ever want this? She wondered to herself as she tried to avoid his eyes while placing the coffee in front of him.
“Let me know if you don’t like it, I can make it again, if you want.” She pulled the chair out across from him while sipping her own. “I changed my drink, so you can pay the extra later” as she sat down and savored the last little bit of hope she thought she might have.
“Gosh, I’ve missed that witty banter you always come at me with.”
Why would he say something like that? It caught her in the throat before she could swallow that first sip. Her heart skipped and her stomach fell past the floor. This was going to be a rough one. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this after all. Her head spun around looking for the guys or anyone. She saw her regulars glancing at her table wondering who this man was. They were all a protective lot, she never understood that.
 She had been wearing a ring on her left hand for quite sometime, she had taken it off for a while but then put something in its place later. So she popped that up every once in awhile, just to keep the joke alive.

She couldn’t tell if he were being sarcastic or not. She never could tell, especially the last couple months of their relationship. He had always said he was joking, but with him there was always a bit of truth to what he said.

So many mornings when they were working together, at her old job, they would run, dress and go down the street for coffee and pastries. And then they would make the walk to work.
Those mornings where they would go about their ways in quiet were her favorite. You would think that would be frustrating, but they had had their own silent language, him and her. Envious were those who observed these looks.
They could know what the other was thinking without having to ask. And they worked fluidly, switching places when they needed to, aiding in bringing out shoes, when one would sell, the other would ring it up, and vice versa keeping a clean work place and happy customers. For the longest time, their coworkers didn’t even know they were dating. No one knew, the worked so well together, and never brought the relationship to the forefront. The working rapport they had created actually gave them the idea for their own store.
Many names had been pondered and worked through, but finally they had come up with M & M Running Company. She would help with the business side, but be mainly on the floor and the event coordinator and eventually the club team coach. He always joked that she would be the face of the store, the “real boss” he would say. People would come in just to see her.

The empty storefront still stood, and whenever she ran in the U District she would eventually pass it along her route. It was still a stab in the heart when she saw it.


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