Fragments of Delores

Chapter One

Delores

Delores sipped her coffee.

The bitter black liquid burned her oesophagus as she swallowed down the too hot liquid. She didn't wince though. Didn't complain. Just took another sip and stared blankly out of the window at the heat-soaked highway.

So much had happened.

So much.

And yet, equally, so much still remained the same.

The ache that filled her was there though. It was always there now. A heavy burdensome feeling that filled her bones and made her skin itch from the inside out. A feeling of a thunderstorm, brewing in the distance. Clouds, heavy with the pregnancy of unshed tears ready to collapse from the sky at a moment's notice.

"You sure you don't want some pie with that? Coffee always taste better with a slice of pie."

Delores looked up at the overly friendly waitress. She read her little white name tag—Sally. Sally spoke with a drawl that didn't sound familiar to the area, over pronouncing the I in the word pie so that it sounded more like a y. Her auburn hair was piled high up on her head in a tight ponytail, a slight kink to the end of it that hinted at hidden curls.

She was pretty—pretty without even trying. The kind of woman that would have been cheerleader captain in high school and most definitely crowned prom queen. And yet now, her life was this: serving coffee to truckers in a diner just off the highway. A dead-end job that would lead to a dead-end future unless she escaped soon. Yet, her face was kind. Tired but kind, and still full of so much life.

Life. Life was so short.

You never really understood how short it was until it was too late.

Until you blinked and your reflection was no longer that of your youthful self. Instead you were looking in dismay at your sagging skin and tired eyes. But still, life went on. Until it didn't, of course. Until the last breath left you as quickly and abruptly as the first breath had come. Like the slap of air into a baby's lungs.

"No thank you, just the coffee will do," Delores replied.

She wondered, for a brief moment, if Sally still had all of her hopes and dreams. Her aspirations for a better life far from here. She wondered if she dreamed of more than this; the right here and the right now. She looked like she did. Even with the creeping tiredness around her eyes, and the worry that was hidden behind her perfect, too-sweet smile. Yes, it was plain to see that this woman still dreamed. She still hoped. Unlike Delores.

"You sure? Because you know, my grandpa always used to say that a problem always seemed easier to work through with a belly full of pie." Sally smiled again, leaning over the counter to refill Delores cup, her low-cut top revealing too much cleavage. But it was unintentional, not deliberate in any way. The uniform was too tight for her and she pulled at the top half self-consciously. Unhappy, but not complaining. She smiled wider, her eyes meeting Delores's.

"Your grandpa sounds like a wise man." Delores smiled though the smile never reached her eyes. "But I'm not hungry."

They stared at each other for a quiet moment. Two women, alike in so many ways, and yet so very different. Where Sally still had life burning bright inside of her, her spirit still fighting—still clawing for existence—Delores had nothing but blackness.

And she had no one to blame but herself.

Sally still held hope, but Delores never would again.

Sally patted Delores's hand kindly before wandering off to serve someone else and Delores turned her attention to the world outside the steamed-up window of the rundown diner.