Short Stories

A Different sort of Person, in a Normal sort of Place

"I write about whatever I want to. Romance, poetry, Murder mystery, and, yes, I do write some of my lyrics to my songs in here." I put my hand on the notebook and slowly slide it towards me. "Nice socks, by the way."

Delirium smiles with delight and clasps her hands together in front of her. "Thank you for noticing my socks. I love them dearly." She sways and looks at me. "I also have a pair of socks with books on them that say 'Only a whore for book characters'."

I laugh, close my eyes and shake my head. "That is fantastic. Where do you get them?"

She shifts from one foot to the other. "Oh you know, here and there. I get a lot of them in locally owned business's and record stores. Usually, I find them when I travel. I always try to stock up." Delirium shrugs.

"That's awesome. So you collect socks?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

"Alrighty then." I hit my notebook against the palm of my hand. "Well, I should probably get out of your hair. I mean it looks like you're trying to close up."

Deliriums POV:

"Alrighy then." Jared hits his notebook against the palm of his hand a few times. "Well, I should probably get out of your hair. I mean it looks like you're trying to close up." He starts turning around but I stop him before he leaves.

I grab hold of his bicep lightly. "Or you could hang out here. I'm always up to meeting new people."

Jared smiles. "I guess I can stay. I mean, I have no where to be." I drop my hand from Jared arm, and he steps leans on the counter. "So do you always invite strangers into this fine coffee shop at night?"

I mockingly flutter my eyelashes. "Only the attractive ones that write music and poetry, of course. Do you always stay when a strange girl asks you to?"

"Only when they're beautiful, and have names like Delirium." Jared joked.

"Is the name Delirium what's making you stay? Or is it the strange socks?"

"Oh it's definitely the strange socks. I wouldn't stay for any other reason."

I laugh and start wiping down the counters and coffee machines. "Well that's a relief. So what do you do for a living? What school do you go to? Who was your highschool sweetheart?

"Wow, that's a lot of questions." Jared pulls a stool from under the front counter and sits down. "But since you asked. My highschool sweetheart doesn't exist because no one likes me enough to date me. I work at a record shop downtown called Cactus Records and stuff, and I attend college at Montana State University. What about you?"

I nod and pull the pastries, that were not sold today, out of their case and place them on the counter. "Well, I work here, obviously, and I also work at Mackenzie River Pizza, but only on wednesdays, and sometimes on Tuesdays. I also attend Montana State university. And my high school sweetheart's name is Gabe. Our relationship lasted for seven months, thirteen days, and five hours. We were everyone's favourite. Always together, always happy. We were, as the teens say, relationship goals. I was heartbroken when he dumped me, but I got over it."

Jared nods his head. "That is quite the relationship. If you don't' mind me asking, why'd he dump you?"

I sigh dramatically. "He just... wasn't feelin' it anymore. The love wasn't there or something. I actually don't know. He didn't give me an actual reason. Which is why it took me nearly two years to get over it. But now, all he is, is a douchebag and a heartbreaker." I pick up a chocolate chip cookie and bite into it.