My table set, guests on their way, I wait. I imagine the last time I saw them. Saw anyone.
“Which day did you tell them?”
“Did you say Saturday? Sunday?”
“Which day? Which day!”
The voices make me second guess myself. I pace. I stop. I stare out the window onto the view I’ve grown accustomed since…since that day. That terrible, terrible day I fell for the girl next door. How lovely she was. Her smile, kind and fragile, my heart’s delight. My soul’s torment.
“They’re not coming!” I shouted to no one. “Oh, wait. They’re already here,” I whispered.
Never fear, Friday Fictioneers are here. Yes, I know the story is creepy. Sad really, in a Tell-Tale Heart meets Ina Garten sort of way. That’s what you get on a grey, cold January day when I’m cooped up waiting for classes to start. For those interested, okay, you two over there, I’m feeling better despite the bleakness of the season. Thanks for reading.