Untitled Short Story
-The following was written during a boring 10 hour drive home from North Carolina. It is an unedited rough copy and just the first third of the short story. Any comments, critics, or suggestions are welcome. ~Kyle
“Swish. Swish, Swish.”
Arthur placed three crisp one dollar bills from his neatly organized wallet onto the counter top. He wanted to say, “Keep the change,” but leaving a 30 cent tip could be interpreted in too many wrong ways. It either meant he was cheap or that he regarded working at a coffee shop as trivial or more importantly that had feelings for the most beautiful counter girl that he had ever seen. Either way, it was more information than Arthur was comfortable with giving.
Instead Arthur snatched up the three dimes sitting in front of him, gathered up his coffee, two creams and three sugars, along with his newspaper and blueberry muffin and walked to a corner seat without giving the beauty even so much of an acknowledgement. It would be better for him, for her not to know, than ruining this daily glimpse at splendor, not to mention having to go through the trouble of finding a new coffee shop so close to his apartment.
He knew her name was Gwen, not from talking to her or asking anyone about her, but from the tag she wore every day on brightly colored polo shirts the coffee shop has their employees wear. To him she was the pinnacle of beauty. She had all the features he was convinced made a girl, a woman, beautiful. Her lips were subtly full, almost inviting a kiss. Her hair was a jet black that was too deep to be artificially colored. It waved just past her shoulders and moved just so when she laughed. As far as Arthur could tell, in the unflattering khakis and polo shirts she wore everyday, she had all of the curves a woman was supposed to have without looking ‘chunky’ or ‘thick.’ He could tell by the way the tiny muscles in her forearm and her biceps, and her triceps, when she carefully prepared his coffee everyday that she must workout on a semi-daily basis.
Arthur was able to relax in this corner of solitude and enjoy his blueberry muffin because he had taken a personnel day off from the office. Normally he had to drink the sweet nectar of the coffee while walking to the accounting firm he worked at, but was a welcomed change. Any time away from the office was cherished, even if it was to do what he needed to do today.
Arthur was not too close to his grandfather, even though the retirement center where he spent his last months was only a half days drive to Arthur’s apartment. In the competitive world of accounting, or at least at the low-level that Arthur was at, one constantly needed to be at the office if one aspired to climb up the corporate ladder. He also never enjoyed going to the retirement center when his grandmother was living there and in the past 5 years had not talked to or seen his grandfather in person. Nevertheless, here he was sitting in the lone corner of the coffee shop washing each succulent bite of the muffin down with invigorating sips of his coffee while planning the trip. He would drive the four hours to the retirement center, out in the country, pack his grandfather’s last possessions up as quickly as he could, and drive back to his apartment, all hopefully before the dark crept into the sky. Before he headed out to enjoy a nice slow drive through the country Arthur stole one last glance of Gwen just as she brushed her black hair across her brow. What he would give to run his fingers through that hair as she snuggled into his warm body.
“Swish. Swish, Swish.”
Arthur placed three crisp one dollar bills from his neatly organized wallet onto the counter top. He wanted to say, “Keep the change,” but leaving a 30 cent tip could be interpreted in too many wrong ways. It either meant he was cheap or that he regarded working at a coffee shop as trivial or more importantly that had feelings for the most beautiful counter girl that he had ever seen. Either way, it was more information than Arthur was comfortable with giving.
Instead Arthur snatched up the three dimes sitting in front of him, gathered up his coffee, two creams and three sugars, along with his newspaper and blueberry muffin and walked to a corner seat without giving the beauty even so much of an acknowledgement. It would be better for him, for her not to know, than ruining this daily glimpse at splendor, not to mention having to go through the trouble of finding a new coffee shop so close to his apartment.
He knew her name was Gwen, not from talking to her or asking anyone about her, but from the tag she wore every day on brightly colored polo shirts the coffee shop has their employees wear. To him she was the pinnacle of beauty. She had all the features he was convinced made a girl, a woman, beautiful. Her lips were subtly full, almost inviting a kiss. Her hair was a jet black that was too deep to be artificially colored. It waved just past her shoulders and moved just so when she laughed. As far as Arthur could tell, in the unflattering khakis and polo shirts she wore everyday, she had all of the curves a woman was supposed to have without looking ‘chunky’ or ‘thick.’ He could tell by the way the tiny muscles in her forearm and her biceps, and her triceps, when she carefully prepared his coffee everyday that she must workout on a semi-daily basis.
Arthur was able to relax in this corner of solitude and enjoy his blueberry muffin because he had taken a personnel day off from the office. Normally he had to drink the sweet nectar of the coffee while walking to the accounting firm he worked at, but was a welcomed change. Any time away from the office was cherished, even if it was to do what he needed to do today.
Arthur was not too close to his grandfather, even though the retirement center where he spent his last months was only a half days drive to Arthur’s apartment. In the competitive world of accounting, or at least at the low-level that Arthur was at, one constantly needed to be at the office if one aspired to climb up the corporate ladder. He also never enjoyed going to the retirement center when his grandmother was living there and in the past 5 years had not talked to or seen his grandfather in person. Nevertheless, here he was sitting in the lone corner of the coffee shop washing each succulent bite of the muffin down with invigorating sips of his coffee while planning the trip. He would drive the four hours to the retirement center, out in the country, pack his grandfather’s last possessions up as quickly as he could, and drive back to his apartment, all hopefully before the dark crept into the sky. Before he headed out to enjoy a nice slow drive through the country Arthur stole one last glance of Gwen just as she brushed her black hair across her brow. What he would give to run his fingers through that hair as she snuggled into his warm body.
posted by Kyle | 8:27 PM
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