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The girls hunched over the table
forming a human bridge. The gossip was intense, conspiratorial, secretive. The
moody waiter sent daggers flying towards them, his eyes full of suspicion, his
head full of hate, his heart full of love. The girls occasionally glanced in
his direction before continuing their conversation in earnest. If his daggers
were hitting the target, then they were having little effect, only causing
glancing blows.
The girls kept talking, kept creating paranoia, kept the waiter at arms length. When he approached they sat back, arms folded either changing the subject or greeting him with steely silence. What cruel game were they playing? Why were they ignoring him? He looked over at them forlornly, neglecting the other customers.
The girls kept talking, kept creating paranoia, kept the waiter at arms length. When he approached they sat back, arms folded either changing the subject or greeting him with steely silence. What cruel game were they playing? Why were they ignoring him? He looked over at them forlornly, neglecting the other customers.
Last night it had been so
different. Last night Lucy had given herself to him unconditionally. If he closed
his eyes, he could still see the shape of her shoulders and the curve of her
breast, still sense the soft skin and the light breathing. She’d curled up into
him and slept like an angel. She’d been his fantasy, became his reality but now
that reality was turning into a bad dream.
He was delighted when she’d walked
in. She’d said she would come to see him in work, but he hadn’t believed it
until he saw her doll like figure holding the door open for the devil incarnate
behind her. He’d approached her and said hi with a smile, only to be met with a
look you might give to a tramp who had just wet himself on a tram. Her kind
eyes had been replaced by a steely stare, her soft smile replaced by attitude.
How had she morphed from a sweet, caring, bubble of joy to an evil ‘IT girl’
overnight? Her friend, the devil, had one of those little dogs in a bag and she
fussed around loudly complaining about everything and everyone, the room was
too cold, the wine too warm, the music too loud and the other customers too
common.
The waiter’s mind drifted back to
the previous evening. Lucy was so much fun, down to earth, kind, so beautiful.
But there was nothing beautiful about the stuck up, arrogant cow she was being
tonight. Had he seen what he wanted to see last night? Had he missed the
obvious? Could rose tinted spectacles kick in after less than 24 hours?
They asked for the bill and left a
derisory tip before leaving the café with barely a nod of recognition. The
waiter was glad to see the back of them, sad to see the back of them. Last
night he’d dreamt of life with Lucy but those dreams lay in tatters.
Later that evening the waiter
checked his phone, he had a message from Lucy.
‘You look so cute in that little
apron, wanna come over afterwork?’
He could almost smell her scent on
the message, almost touch her skin. But did he want to have a relationship with
someone who was Dr Jekyll and Mrs Hyde?
:-(
ReplyDeleteHe could almost smell her scent on the message, almost touch her skin. But did he want to have a relationship with someone who was Dr Jekyll and Mrs Hyde?
ReplyDeleteI don't believe he is such an angel and she is such a bitch.... there must be some hidden agenda here. I wonder what her version is. I have my theory but... who knows
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