Written by Doishy

A beautiful day outside a coffee shop…

I am born and then I die. It is not painful but it the same sweet taste of oblivion that everyone has. This is explained to me quite clearly by a gentleman standing in front of me. He claims to see me every day but I do not recall having ever seen him before. The meeting lasts all of twenty minutes and he finally leaves making sure I have everything I need beforehand. I sit awhile in silence and collect my thoughts for this morning. The sun, starting to reach the heights of midday warms my cheek through the window and I decide to head out to somewhere that isn’t my dusty house.

Outside I notice my house is numbered but think nothing of it, probably some kids playing games with everyone. I stroll along the roads of the area; up hills, over a small bridge and finally come to a green expanse bordered by a few houses. On one end of these dwellings sits a corner shop and I go in. Everything smells good so I buy a few things, some pasties, a sandwich and some hot soup in a cup. After it is all placed she looks at me expectantly. “Yes of course, sorry.” I mumble. That gentleman earlier had clearly explained this. I rummage through my pockets for a few seconds until my skin touches paper and I hand it over. This produces the correct response, I get some coins back and I head back out into the light.

I find a nice spot, lay my jacket down to sit on and get on with enjoying my lunch. After finishing the first of the pasties I feel someone staring at me, so I turn to look behind me. To my shock there is a face right behind mine which immediately splits into a grin and falls over. She pushes herself up and looks again at me simply saying “Hey you.” Needless to say I panic. ‘Who is she, does she know me, why, no I know why she knows me and I don’t, that was explained but she looks good and…’ I trail off and realise she has been hearing narrate my own thoughts somewhat. Yeah, I’m definitely panicked.

She sits next to me and steals a bite of my pasty. I don’t know why but I really don’t mind this. In fact I like it a lot. I break the pasty in half and proffer it to her. She smiles again and takes it off me attacking it with gusto. We sit, we eat, she smiles and I find myself doing the same. The sun shines on us and we are happy. It starts to dim and she asks me if I want to come over to hers, I check the time and realise I have to walk back. She asks me where I was yesterday, I dismiss the question and start walking, leaving my jacket. I know it is mine but I hope that tomorrow, well the next day that happens, she will use it to find me.

I get home, don’t bother to eat, listen to the radio and drift off as I fall away I feel tears coming up to my eyes in hope that maybe tomorrow will happy, not the next day. I am born and then I die. It is not painful but it the same sour taste of oblivion that everyone has.