Short Stories

Two Times

Peter walked down the street, his coat snug up to his chin. With each breath, he took in the cold air, and watched as his exhales floated in front of him. Just another block and he'd be at the coffee shop.

The bell rang above his head as he opened the door. Warm air blew his brown hair until it rested in his eyes. Peter quickly smoothed it over, and walked to the counter. Just a regular coffee with creamer; he wasn't too into it, but at least it woke him up in the morning. As he waited, Peter tapped his fingers by the pickup station, swiping through his phone.

Once he got his coffee, there wasn't anywhere to sit. The shop was unusually busy, and their were a lot of groups chatting away. Over in the corner, a girl sat by herself. Peter made his way over.

"Mind if I sit here?" Peter asked.

The girl pulled her headphones out from behind her frizzy black hair. "Sorry?"

"Can I sit here?" He repeated.

"Oh, yeah, sure." The girl put her headphones back in. She seemed too involved in her phone. Her eyes were the color of coffee beans, ironically, and you could barely see dark circle beneath her eyes, blending into her dark skin.

Peter tried to look anywhere but her, and focus on drinking his coffee to leave, but something didn't feel right. It seemed so quiet in the corner. Everywhere else was full of discussions on the new fashion trend, or which celebrity was hotter. The only noise was the small taps on a phone, and when he sipped his drink.

He finished his coffee, and after nodding to the girl, he left the shop.

---

Peter was surprised to see the girl again. How he had remembered her face, he didn't know. He was going out for lunch with his friends, and then he'd have to be back at work.

They bumped into each other, both startled from the sudden collision. Peter rubbed his forehead, and quickly apologized.

"Yeah, uh-huh," the girl said. Peter noticed she was wearing work clothes, so she must have worked there.

The two passed each other, and went on with their business.

---

That should've been that, but it wasn't.

As soon as Peter got back to his apartment, he hung his coat on a chair a slammed down on his couch. Just a browse through the channels, and then maybe if he found a movie, he'd start dinner. He stopped on the news, and took a double take when the same girl was on it. Well, not on in person, but a picture of her was posted on it.

The girl was smiling, unlike earlier that day. Her eyes were sparkling, and she truly looked happy. A pang of guilt hit Peter's gut, hoping what might follow, won't come.

"Fiona Wild was found dead in the bay," the news woman said. "A fisherman passed by on his boat, and is quoted as saying, 'her face was fully submerged in the water.' He immediately contacted authorities. When they showed up to the scene, she was declared dead, and caused by suicide. A public funeral will be held soon."

Peter lost his appetite and turned off the tv. If he had known, he might have been able to talk to her. But he hadn't. He didn't know her life story, and didn't even know her name until just now. If had exchanged a few words... it might not have even matter. All he could do was hope that she was finally at peace.