-Ambrose Bierce (1842 – 1914)

            Demy stared at Adrien in the public restroom. “You can’t offer her sleeping pills. What the hell is wrong with you?”

            Adrien looked very legitimately confused. “Why not? You saw her. She’s so sleep deprived she was in pain. It won’t be long before she starts hallucinating.”

            “Jesus Christ, you have a bad memory,” said Demy as he rubbed his face in frustration. “Do you remember her old boyfriend? No, not even her boyfriend. Do you remember her fiancé?”

            “Yeah, that tall guy who was obsessed with coffee. I remember him.”

            “Do you remember how he died?”

            Adrien thought for a moment. You could tell he was thinking hard because his eyebrows were moving around a lot. “Nope.”

            Demy shook his head and let out a sigh. “He died from an overdose of sleeping pills.”

            “Oh, yeah. I remember that now.” There was a pause filled with silence. “Oh, crap.”

            They ran out of the bathroom and went to the table that Branwen was sitting at. She was gone and the bottle of pills was still sitting there next to two coffees. Demy let out a sigh of relief and took a sip of coffee. He started gagging and put the cup down. “How much sugar did you put in there?”

            “Actually, I wasn’t done adding sugar to it.”

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            Swen mounted his motorcycle and put on his helmet. He rode west and pulled into an alleyway. He pressed a button on his bike and waited. He shook his head and drove away.

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            Branwen opened her eyes. Lately she had been falling asleep for moments at a time and having strange dreams. She just had a dream about the guy she met in the coffee shop.

            She was sitting on a bench next to someone fairly older than her. She tried to focus on his face. Did he smile at her? Someone said “Hello.”

            Then, someone else said “Hey.”

            He looked a little confused at her. “Are you okay?”

            She rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just haven’t slept in a while. I’m just taking a break here before I finish walking home.” She took a sip from her orange juice. I was warm. “How long has it been raining?”

            The man looked very uncomfortable. “About three days now. Are you sure you’re alright? Maybe you should go to the hospital.”

            “I already went to the hospital. They refused to give me anything.”

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            Swen rode his bike across the great bridge. He rode a little more and came to an alleyway. He pressed a button on his bike and waited. “Damn it.” He adjusted his collar and said “Where the hell is it?” After a moment he nodded and made his way back to the great bridge.

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            Gwen turned to say something else to him, but he was gone. “Damn it,” she said. She had fallen asleep again. She turned the other way and saw a bus driving away. Why did she keep dreaming about the guy in the coffee shop? Did he even exist? Whatever. She would think about that when she had more than thirty seconds of sleep to rely on.

            She got up and started down the street. She stopped and turned around. She knew the city pretty well, but had no idea where she was. She took out her phone and called Demy.

            “Demy? You there?”

            “Yeah, what’s up?” he asked.

            Gwen let out a sigh and a yawn at the same time. “I’m lost. I can’t find my way back to the apartments. I’m at a bus stop on Gate Street.”

            “Don’t worry about it. Adrien and I are on the highway right now. As soon as we finish our business here, we’re going to come find you. Are you safe?”

            “Oh, come on,” she laughed. “You know I can take on anyone in this city.”

            Demy did not sound happy. “Not in your current condition. Can you find shelter in an all night diner or something? There are plenty of those on Gate Street.”

            “There’s one across from me. It’s called Jen’s Diner.”

            “I know where that is. We’ll be there in about half an hour.”

            “Thanks, Bro.”

            “No prob’, Sis.”

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            Demy closed his phone. “Okay, one more car and then we have to go pick up Gwen. She got lost on the way home.”

            “Fine by me,” said Adrien. “Can I pick the next car?”

            “Sure, I’ll hop in the back.”

            Demy opened a door and climbed into the bed of the pickup truck. He sat low, behind a large object covered with a black tarp that matched the truck. Adrien pulled into the slow traffic lane and slowed down to thirty miles per hour. About a quarter mile back, they could already see their target. A yellow sports car was screaming down the slow lane at an excess of a hundred miles an hour. When it came up behind the truck, it slammed on it’s break and it’s horn. Demy took that as his cue to unfurl the tarp and expose the massive harpoon gun.

            “Immolation?”

            “Huh? What?” said Branwen as she suddenly sat upright and rubbed her eyes. She squinted through the fluorescent lights up at the man standing by her table.
            “I said, ‘Is this seat taken?’”
            She blinked at him several times and then shook her head. Was she saying no? Was she trying to wake herself up? By the time he sat down, she couldn’t remember. Where was she? She saw a sign about bagels. Was she downtown?
            “Are you from around here?” he asked her. She stared right through him and his leather jacket. She tried to think. “I just got into the city myself.” She tried again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the traffic here.” She finally did it.
            “What day is it?” she managed to slur out.

            He tilted his head to one side and said “It’s been Saturday for about two hours now. Why?”

            She looked around frantically, trying to grab onto any conscious thought that she could. “Saturday?” She went to the airport to surprise him on a Saturday. “Two hours. . .” She thought for a moment and then remembered getting up at two A.M. to get to the airport in time for his flight. “That bastard got off the plane with another woman.” She was suddenly very aware of everything going on around her. “I’ve been awake for a week!”

            “I suspected that, but I was more strongly leaning towards thinking you were on some sort of drug.”

            She finally looked at him instead of beyond him. He sat very comfortably on the bench beyond the table, sipping from his bottle of murky water. His short, spiky hair and stubbly face reminded her of her of someone, but she couldn’t remember who. He had bright, radiant, blue eyes.

            “The name’s Swen. It’s nice to meet you.” He took a couple more small sips from his bottle and looked around a bit. “Generally when people have insomnia, they don’t hang out in coffee shops.”

            Branwen found herself drinking from a cup of orange juice and remembered where she was and why she was there. “I’m here to meet up with a couple of friends. They should be here any minute.” She felt weak. The aftertaste of the cheap orange juice didn’t help. She noticed something. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked as politely as she could.

            Swen stared out the window as he said, “I highly doubt it. I’m not from around here. I’ve been living in the city for a few days now and decided I need to make some friends.” He smiled at her.

            She was feeling cynical. “Have you ever had severe insomnia?”

            He nodded. “Sort of.”

            “After a while, reality starts becoming more and more abstract. Being without dreams, simple things become more like them. Your senses begin to warp. Your body feels like it’s a mile away. The mind and the body become distant. The defining boundaries of reality fade. Am I a butterfly dreaming I am a man? Or am I just a heartbroken girl who hasn’t slept in a week?” She paused, feeling emotional and distant at the same time. “Are you even listening to me?”

            He stared out the window into the rain. He looked very solemn. She wondered what was wrong. “I know exactly how you feel.” He looked out the window for a few more moments and then stood and waked away. The tossed his empty bottle into a trash bin before walking out into the rain.

            She stared for a while, not thinking about anything specific. A hand was placed on her shoulder. “You don’t look so well.” She looked up to see who the hand and voice belonged to. It was a tall, thin albino man. He moved in sudden, calculated movements.

            “Demy,” she smiled at him. “You’re late.”

            “I guess you can say we hit some traffic on the way.” He winked at her. “Nothing we couldn’t handle on our own.” He sat across from her and motioned at a short, bulky man at the counter. “Adrien over there has some crazy ideas for the truck and your bike. He says he’s a visionary. I say he watches too many cartoons.”

            “You know I don’t watch cartoons,” said Adrien. He handed Demy a coffee and sat down with his own. He took the top off of the container and started pouring in packets of sugar. After five packets he looked at Branwen. “Wow. You don’t look so good. Still can’t sleep?” Branwen shook her head and rubber her eyes. “You shouldn’t be losing sleep over that creep. I knew he was bad news the first time I met him.”

            “He hasn’t been on my mind lately. I don’t know why I can’t get to sleep.” She stared at the bottom of her empty cup. “I always suspected he was with another woman. The business trips ran later and later the more he went on them.” She stretched her neck. “I just don’t know how I’m going to make it through work in the morning.”

            “I have an idea,” said Adrien. “You call work the leave a message saying you won’t be there today. Then you take a couple of these.” He handed her a bottle of pills. “Two of those and you’ll be out for eight hours.”

            Demy used his outdoor voice. “Wow, Adrien, I really have to use the bathroom, how about you?”

            “No, I’m fine. Oh, God! My foot! Fine, I’ll use the bathroom.”

            Adrien and Demy got off the bench and made their way to the bathroom. Branwen knew exactly what they were going to talk about, but tried not to think about it. She failed, and sat there staring at the bottle of pills.

            She left the bottle on the table ordered another orange juice. She took it with her into the rain. She walked to the corner and hit the button for the electronic crossing guard. She waited a few moments and watched the traffic work its way through the intersection. A tone played and the red light shaped like a hand was replaced with a white light shaped like a person walking.

            A truck taking a quick right turn on red slammed on its brakes and stopped inches away from Branwen. She stood there, staring at it. It honked at her, menacingly. Betraying her instincts, she continued through the intersection and made her way back to her apartment building.

I will also be working on some of my other short stories, such as Absolute Domain. I have a few twists in mind for Swen and Branwen that will leave you on the edge of your seat.

And finally, Never, Swen, and Jon from Complicated Machinery are at it again. I’m editing this one like it’s my job, and just you wait. We’re almost at the part with the invisible ninjas! Now with 100% less gender changes!

I still need to type out Bittersweet Love and edit Complicated Machinery, but I have a couple of pages of Absolute Domain that I can post right now. So, go read it and if you have any questions or comments, please let me know.

Health and godspeed
And spacetears, of course.
…-_-…

            I walked through the door and she leapt at me. “Donnie! Where have you been?” She hugged me long and hard as I stood there, my eyes half open. “Hey, are you okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just really tired. I could really use a cup of Joe.”

            “Okay, Sure,” she said with her perky voice. We walked to the counter and I rang the bell once. The woman who worked there came out and saw me. She asked me where I’d been. I fed her a simple ‘Around’ and she seemed to think of that as an acceptable answer.

            “So, what’ll it be, stranger?”

            I took out my wallet and checked my funds. “I’ll have a glass of ice water. Oh, and a slice of lemon if that’s free.”

            “He’ll have a small coffee and a large cup.” Gwen smiled at me. “You’ve made me coffee so many times, I figure I should return the favor.”

            “Thanks, it means a lot to me.” And, it did. I meant a lot to me. But, in no way did my voice reflect how much it meant to me. My affect was blander than decaf. We went to our usual spot and sat down. “I don’t have any of my ingredients.”
            “That’s okay. You didn’t show up for a couple days, so I figured I’d take a stab at your concoction”

            “Show me what you’ve got.”

            She emptied a small leather satchel (which matched mine) and started combining ingredients with the coffee in the large cup. She slid the final result across the table and I’ll never forget what she said.

            “I can tell you don’t want to talk about where you’ve been, so let’s make a bet. If your coffee tastes better than mine, I’ll metaphorically go sit over there and let you finish moping. If my coffee is better, then you actually open your mouth and let me know why my best friend disappeared for a month” I sighed and shrugged at her. She placed the cup in front of me and motioned with her hands for me to drink it.

            I dove right into that cup. I would savor it later. Just the feeling of caffeine and simple carbohydrates entering my body was refreshing. For the first time that month, my eyes opened all the way and I sat up straight. Then it hit me. “Vanilla extract!” The sudden burst of energy made it so much better. “Real cream instead of milk or that powdered crap.” I breathed air so fresh, I couldn’t believe I was in my hometown. “Wait a minute. Just hold on!” I took another sip and let the taste sink in. “Strawberry extract,” I whispered. I stood in the air, threw up my hands and shouted, “Strawberry extract!”

            At the other end of the room, the coffee lady was shaking her head. Gwen was still smiling. “Now that’s the Donnie I used to know.”

            “Sorry, I haven’t had the bitter taste of caffeine in over a month.”

            “Well, my coffee was obviously better. Now tell me where you’ve been. What happened to you? You walked in here as a zombie.”

            I laughed. I laughed a lot, actually. I laughed to the point where watching me laugh was a little funny, then a tad annoying.

            “What’s so funny?”

            I sat back down and took a deep breath. I did not look her in the eyes when I said, “Your coffee was not better. It was exhilaratingly refreshing, but not better than my brew. The strawberry extract was so exciting because I tried it out when I was still learning to make the perfect cup. I stopped using it, though, because I found other things that better compliment coffee.” I was glad I couldn’t see her face. “The day you make a better cup of coffee than me, I will tell you where I was.” I turned to her and winked. “And, I’ll propose to you.”

            “Hmm.”

            She said ‘Hmm’! Don’t even get me started on that sound. I’ll explain more later.

            “But, you’re fine now, right?” she asked.

            At that point, I decided I should sigh professionally and get paid for it. I could do a couple of tours and then retire. “I’m of sound body and mind, but I lost my job. Right now all the money I have is just what my church gave to me. I can’t pay my rent or my bills. I’ve survived the past two days on ramen noodles.”

            When I finished that little explanation, I noticed something very important. My left hand was wrapped around the coffee she made me and my right was resting on the table. Her right hand was around her cup. It was her left hand that metaphorically struck me so hard it didn’t feel all that metaphorical. Her left hand was wrapped around my right.

            That was enough to shock me. My surprise must have been subtle, though, because then she told me, “You can stay with my boyfriend if you-“

            “No, thanks!” I said, but she continued.

            “-Can’t find a place to stay.” She sighed when she finished. She could have joined my Olympic sighing team. She was good at it. “Will you at least consider it?”

            “You know how I feel about your boyfriend. He doesn’t understand you. He wouldn’t know compassion if you force-fed him it. He’s dumber than dirt. Plus, on top of all that, he makes you feel like crap all the time. Jesus Christ, he should be a politician.”

            “Hey, that was a low blow. Besides, you have nothing to back up those opinions.

            “One: he bought you decaf beans for your birthday. Need I say more? I’m going to anyway. Two: if I ask him your shoe size, ring size, height, weight, birthday, favorite color, eye color, or even your age, he won’t know. Hell, I bet he doesn’t even know you’re a b cup. Or that you don’t know your shoe size in women’s because you’ve only worn men’s shoes since you were eight. Does he know that you’re five foot eight and a quarter? You know that promise ring he gave you barely fits your pinky. And, then there’s that joke he has about your weight. He says you’re the perfect weight to bench press. Not only does he not know how much you weigh, but he can’t bench press you. Honestly, he’ll have to work out a lot if he wants to carry you through the doorway of your newly wed home.”

            I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t look into her eyes, but I knew tears were there. It was like falling off a building: scary as hell, impossible to stop, and when it’s all over, the pain is incomprehensible.

            “Does he know you were born January twelfth at 8:23 A.M. in the hospital down the street? Does he know that when people ask you your favorite color, you tell them it’s green, when in fact it is yellow? Does he know that your eyes are usually hazel,  but when you stare into mine, they turn green? Does he know I’m in love with you?!”

            Most of the time when I went in there, it was empty. On a busy day, one or two people might walk in while I nurture my bittersweet love, but none of them stayed. That day was different, however. That day, I remember, kind of. There was already someone there.

            I walked in and smiled at her as I walked past her. She didn’t look up from her notepad. At that point I was determined to get her to notice me, even if it required to make an ass of myself. That would require nothing more than for me to act normal.

            I went to the counter and placed two dollar bills down. I rang the little bell ten times. The girl that worked there peeked around from the back and receded again. She came out a moment later with a small coffee and a large cup.

            “Thanks.”

            I sat directly across from her. She didn’t look directly at me, but I could tell she was paying some small amount of attention to me. While bobbing to the hip coffee house music, I took out the ingredients from my bag. I poured the small coffee into the larger cup. I added some honey and maple syrup. Some chocolate and peanut butter sauce. Can’t forget the butterscotch. Whole mile and nothing less. When I pulled out the cinnamon stick and the little grater, I knew I had her. I even made eye contact.

            “Hi,” I smiled.

            She put down her notepad and her pen and stared at me with no expression.

            I returned the gaze and stopped grating. “This is the part where you ask me what I’m doing.” She picked up her tools and started writing again. “You see, I make the best coffee in the world.” I stirred the nectar of the gods with a spoon and slid it across the table. “I bet it beats your French vanilla’s ass.” That got a grin out of her, so I took a chance.

            “Let’s make it a bet,” I said. “If your coffee tastes better than mine, I’ll go sit over there and let you finish writing. If my coffee is better, then you actually open your mouth and say something to me.” She sighed and shrugged at me.

            I lined up the two cups next to each other and made a motion with my hands for her to drink them. First she took a sip from her cup and put it back down. She smelled my cup and gave me a funny look. She took a sip and put the cup back down.

            As she slid the French vanilla across the table to my side, she said, “It’s my coffee now.”

            At that point I wasn’t sure who had won. I held out my hand and she shook it. “We’ve met before. We used to go to school together. You’re name’s Donnie, right?”

            I stroked my beard a couple of times. “My name is Donnie, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

            “I’m Gwen.”

            “Gwen? As in Guinevere? Or, as she would have said it, Gwenhwyfar, which is composed of the elements gwen meaning ‘fair, white’ and hwyfar meaning ‘smooth’. In Arthurian legend she is the beautiful wife of King Arthur. Her betrayal of her husband with Mordred prompted the battle of Camlann, which led to the deaths of both Mordred and Arthur. Later versions of the legends tell of her adulterous affair with Sir Lancelot.” I took a sip of my cold, half finished French vanilla. “Or, I can just call you Gwen.”

            She put her notepad back into her bag and asked me, “Do you know a lot about names?”

            “Oh, sure. Take my name for example. Donnie is derived from Donatello. He was a great teenage ninja. He was a master with the bo staff and the ways of science. With his three brothers, he spread throughout the lands order and peace. They even taught youths about discipline, morals, and teamwork.”

            She laughed a beautiful laugh and shook her head. “And, he liked pizza.”

            “Loved pizza.”

            After that we talked about ninja turtles. Then we talked about ninjas and pirates. We talked about Johnny Depp and Brad Pitt. But, more important than any of that: We got to know each other.

I was at the top of the list,
But I’ve since withdrawn
Not even time for two weeks notice,
But it’s time to move on.

Add an ‘ex’ to my title.
Quite possibly a ‘non’.
I need to know for when I tell people
That I’m moving on.

I remember being happy
With no fake smile to put on.
Now even the fake smile eludes me
As I try to move on.

I wanted to sleep it off.
The best I can do is a yawn.
Rest does not come easily.
When I want to move on.

Lost quite like Alice,
But without a glass to look upon.
A never land of hope.
Hoping to move on.

A truly close friend
Was someone I could count on.
To my brother from another mother:
Let us move on.

Touch the jagged edges of my broken heart.
I want you to feel it before it’s gone.
I want you to feel what I feel.
The feeling of moving on.

Listening to the radio,
elusive and empty,
a sacrosanct song meets an empty pack
as I reach the sky

Fall back into the school dances
remember the lunch tables and cheap fries.
an old world
it consumes me

A girl asks for a dance
Why not?
Innocence?
Why ‘naught’?

Reintroduced into a world of unadulterated
cute
nonsensical
crap.

Drifting back and forth
Breathing heavily
The dance lasts forever
Nothing lasts forever

Wake up, the song is over
The girl is gone
The memory fades
Along with everything else

I spent the night laughing a thousand laughs
We told jokes
We told riddles
Something I just didn’t get
Something I just didn’t know

I spent the night saying a thousand wrong things
You did not look at me
Emptiness filled the air
Not even a sly remark escaped your lips
Not even a grammar correction carried on your breath

I spent the night feeling the force of a thousand doors slammed in my face
You should get going, you said
Goodnight, you said
For a moment, there was a great stare between us
          And I was left in a cold, dark world
For a moment, there was a great wooden barrier between us
          And I was left lonely in the silence

I spent the night walking a thousand miles home
It was twelve A.M.
It was twelve degrees
I smoked twelve cigarettes
I decided twelve times over to become a hermit and take a vow of silence

I spent the night trying to contact a thousand old friends,
          Trying to find relief
The first one was asleep
The second was watching a movie
The third was bored
The fourth was feeling down

I spent the night drinking a thousand energy drinks
Weary but wired, we went for a hike
Tired but together, bonds were made anew
Hollow but hyper, we gazed at the stars
Mortuus quod victus, we all finally went home

I spent the night making up a thousand minds
Mono said Waste of energy
Joe said So it goes, don’t you know?
Ulysses said Good riddance
Pat said Maria who?

I spent the night dreaming a thousand dreams
I saved the world in silence
No one will ever know
About the giant, evil, vampiric, ninja, cyborg, zombie nazi
Or the broken heart

I spent the night getting over you a thousand times over
I don’t need you to live my life
For, tomorrow is another day
Followed by
Another night