I had already been at Durk’s Coffee shop all day and not one person that I could use as a character came by. Life as a writer, is never easy when you are trying to create quality stories. My coffee cup sat on the black maple wood window table; scared by previous patrons who had no regard for the place. The white floor has almost disappeared, stained a muddy color by people’s shoes. The windows had always been this weird color, like the sun had tried to bleach them. The sun shined through the window, blinding people if you sit the wrong way.
I could not believe the condition Durk’s coffee shop was in. The store had been around for years, at least that’s what the archive said. Okay, sure I had researched places that I could visit with high traffic, but obviously the archive needed to be updated. This Coffee shop had definitely seen better days. Sure, the floor probally needed to be replaced years ago and most of the ceiling needs to be replaced, too. But from what he read, this shop had been apart of the community for years and the community would probably sacrifice everything to keep the shop open.
The weather took a sudden change for the worse, turning the sky a radiant gray. Clouds started rolling in, blocking out the last once of daylight. They creept across the sky, with their strange lights sending signals to outer space. Thunder could be heard in the distance, approaching fast. It felt like a bad omen creeping in.
James had been needing this vacation or at least a chance to get away from his regular scene where he writes. Things have always been crazy in those parts, especially after the robbery that had taken place there. But how could you blame anybody, it was ripe for opportunity. Especially now that Governor Santos retired; he was the one person trying to revive the area.
The trees started blowing, picking up a steady pace. Signs and loose trash started blowing down the street, as if something were pulling stuff to a central location. There surely is a storm coming, its just a matter of when it will hit. As if on cue, it started drizzling not even five minutes later. People ran for cover like they were going to melt or somehow their clothing was going to fall off. Their clothes stuck to body, exposing things kids should only know about when they reach a certain age rain running down their face. That’s when she ran under the overhead, practically running into his life. The right person had arrived, like a monster stepping out of some mystic mist.
James looked at her, she turned catching him staring at her. She was practically a goddess, disgused as a mere mortal. Her wet black hair flowed down her back, resting right above that curve that lead down her thigh. She smiled at him before turning away. She probably thought he was weird, staring at women the way he did. He started writing, his pen gliding across the paper as he crafted a profile befitting of a Queen like her. I looked up only to discover, she was gone.
James thought,” I could possibly move here, start over from scratch and make new friends. But where would that leave myself if I did. My connections wouldn’t be able to help me if I did move.”
The thing he did not understand is what would become of April if he left so early in her training. I mean it wasn’t that long ago, she had caught him writing characters. It is not like he was in love with her or had any obligation to her. But he did care and does not want anything to happen to her, she is a good person. I took a sip of my coffee, the liquid still warm.
James glanced outside, noticing a man sitting on the old bench. The man looks quite old, but James cannot place his age, possibly in his late thirties. The man’s hair hangs down his back, clamping to his shirt as if it has not been washed in years. His hair appeared to be a dirty green and cut at odd lengths, it looked like it could fall out at any minute and water running down his head didn’t make it any better. His black tattered pants, clamped to his legs. The man was waiting impatiently for somebody, tapping his foot nervously. But who could this man be waiting for this time of the night? Probably nobody important.
“What the hell are you looking at,” the man yelled.
James did not notice he had zoned out and was staring directly at the man. The man he had just been observing was now staring at him, face scrunched up in anger. James blinked his eyes unbothered by the man’s nature. He finished up the character profile he was working on and started packing up his things.
James started making his way toward the door, thinking about what he was going to do when he got home. He might go out tonight, spend some time down by Venice. He even thought about possibly finding a date for next week. It stopped raining, just as a black SUV pulled up to the curb. The car had some thick looking tires that probably couldn’t even be taken out by anything, except a medieval spike and a nuke.
James glanced over at the man, who had stopped moving…. completely in fact. If you did not know better, you would probably think he was a statue. The SUV had caught his attention, but why? It’s strange for a person to just go so ridged.
A few minutes seemed to feel like forever before a gentleman in a navy-blue suit got out closing the door behind him. The man’s face was scrunched up, he looked worried about something. A scar slightly above his right eye, like someone had tried to cut him.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” the gentleman said.
The gentleman walked past him, heading for Durk’s coffee shop unaware of the danger that was heading toward him. The would-be murder had pulled a knife from his pants and was heading toward the gentleman. James felt like he had to do something.
James ran toward the man, diving in front of him. He managed to knock the man to the ground tussling with the man for possession of the knife. He felt a sharp pain before the man managed to pull himself away from James. James heard hurried footsteps running down the street toward fifth and Hinesman. Was he able to protect the man from harm? He felt a warm liquid pouring over his hand, but James already knew what it was. Blood covered his clothes, staining the ground red where he was laying.
He raised his hand, seeing the blood dripping from his covered hand made him feel nausea. He felt this strange coldness washing over him. He felt pressure on his mid-section where he had been stabbed. James blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to stay conscious.
“Stay with us, help-” I couldn’t see who was with him.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Governor Johnson of Nevada, I’m terribly sorry-,” That was the last thing James heard before he lost consciousness. The emergency EMT’s had just arrived they worked fast to get him stabilized, loading him into the ambulance they rushed James off to the nearest emergency room.
The moon peeked through the clouds, casting a ritualistic shine over the area. The streets were deserted, except for a few stranglers and the cashier locking up Durk’s for the night. The governor’s SUV speed off following behind the ambulance, lights flashing.
Robert Chats 