365 Ficlets - Day #356 ~ "Bombshell"

“Thanks for meeting me. I know it wasn’t what you wanted to do, I mean I know it’s hard for you to see me, and well, thanks.”

Karl looked up from the menu and nodded, fixed Susan with an assertive gaze;

“Well clearly you have something to say to me and I think the three years we were together have bought you this much indulgence from me, but I will be honest and tell you that I’m not feeling patient. I mean it’s bad enough that you cheated on me six weeks before the wedding, but to do what you did… No groom to be should walk into a room to see his best friend’s wife eating out his fiancée who is screaming her pleasure without even thinking about how much more likely it must have made the possibility of detection.”

Susan’s shoulders slumped a little and she quickly shot glances left and right to see if they were overheard by the other diners and then turned back to her former partner;

“I’m so sorry, Karl. Still I know that you don’t want another apology so i’ll get to it. You see, the thing is I am pregnant, Dear.

365 Ficlets - Day #355 ~ "Special Delivery"

Of course the doorbell went just as I was getting into the shower, I mean when else does anyone come to your door? So there I am, wrapped in a couple of towels trying to sign for some package that I don’t even remember ordering without showing the delivery guy everything I got, and the water’s getting in my eyes from my hair and well, by the time I got the damn thing inside and the door shut I was in a foul mood.

So I’m stood in the hallway, dripping onto the rug and staring at this package that’s about the size of a small dog andwondering what Earth it can be. Is it those speakers I am waiting for? No they were not due for another week. What about a gift from someone, out of the blue? Unlikely, my birthday was still three months awat, and besides I wasno longer at an age for pyhsically large gift giving.

I decided to put off the grand unveiling and get back in the shower, but as I turned to walk away there was a tearing sound and what felt like a feather duster being run over my legs, as a cat shot past me.

365 Ficlets - Day #354 ~ "Round One"

Winding the tapes between his fingers was the ritual that took him out of the world and placed him mind and body into the bubble of the bout. From this point onwards nothing else would matter until his opponent was out, or he was.

On the edge of his awareness he could hear Frank checking his bag; best cut man in the business, and the oldest, but he still checked the bag three times before any match. The noise finished and he felt Frank’s hand on his shoulder; a silent encouragement, a notice that Frank would be by his side.

The tapes were wound, and without fanfare Jerry was holding out the first glove, always the left first.

Gloves on, quick warm-up, hood up and start for the ring.

He stepped out into the gaze of the arena and the crowd went wild. His heart skipped a beat, just as it always did, and then he raised his right hand and started to jog down to the ring, hood falling back just as planned.

Into the ring, gently hopping from foot to foot, adrenaline now at full effect.

In the other corner; smiling.

Shit.

365 Ficlets - Day #353 ~ "Tower Tryst"

The wind felt good in Faran’s hair and face. Climbing to the top of the East Tower had left him tired and flushed, but the cooling wind was, along with the spectacular view of the bay, the perfect tonic.

It had been ten years of war that had laid the foundation for the tower he was now stood atop. Once the Garlanians had been beaten back into the sea it was Faran’s grandfather Retief the Bloody that had commanded his people to raise up a tower overlooking the three bays, from which the guard could keep a weather eye for sails on the horizon.

Of course the Garlanians had since become allies and partners in trade, and the war was far back in history, but the East Tower still had its uses. On hearing her footsteps behind him he wheeled round and grabbed her waist; Hiera had been trying to sneak up on him, even though he was there at her request and he had known she would be there somewhere. She squealed with delight, then rained kisses down on his face as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

365 Ficlets - Day #352 ~ "Carnival Morning"

The sounds of the carnival were ringing still in her ears when she awoke in the morning. Starting from her sleep and flailing around madly at the canvas that seemed to be all around her she realised that she was not trapped, but was merely between two tents that were standing very close to one another.

As she sat up she could feel that the wet ground had soaked her blouse and skirt right through; her clothes were so wet that they felt like wet tissue paper against her skin. It was at about that point that Lena started to wonder why she could not remember why she was there, on the ground. Why was she not at home in her bed, with her lover. Where was Helena?

And so it was at that moment that she became scared. She felt her breath start to quicken, the beat of her heart coming more quickly and then she was on her feet and running, hopping over tent pegs as she went. She burst out from between the two large marquees to find such a scene of devastation…

All those bodies and all that blood, and so she began to scream.

365 Ficlets - Day #351 ~ "Fatherhood"

The truth is that the very last thing I had expected was to become a father. The recent past, well the last ten years at any rate, have not brought much actual love into my life. Of course there have been lovers, but no one who stayed very long or really got inside my armour.

No one could get close to me after what had happened, and so when Serena came along I was not expecting to find myself in love. In fact it was such a surprise that the last four months have passed almost without my noticing.

Without my realising I have a beautiful, intelligent woman living in my home, sleeping in my bed and sharing my life, and now she’s pregnant. There is a part of me that wants to slow it all down, that is terrified that nothing that can last can happen this fast. That thinks men who have children with women fifteen years their junior are often chosen for their money, not their inner being. When she tells me that she loves me, that little voice becomes very, very quiet indeed, and all I see is the mother of my child.

365 Ficlets - Day #350 ~ "Scoop"

“There’s a story here, I can feel it!”

Damian was already getting excited, gesturing wildly and flitting around the table, picking up memos and invoices from the pile of documents that his contact had posted through his door early that morning.

“Come on! There are hundreds upon hundreds of transactions here that are nowhere to be found within the annual accounts of Foliginan, the parent company.”

I watched him, enjoying his infectious enthusiasm, wondering where he was going to take me, as I had not yet looked through the documents and he had spent all day with them. I decided to spur him on;

“So what you are saying is that this anonymous informant is telling you to follow the money, that the answers to our more interesting questions about the shooting at the retreat are actually answered by a money trail?”

His eyes lit up and widened with the rush of joy that I fed to him by following his line of thinking.

“Yes! Yes, absolutely. I am starting to think the Police assumptions about an angry employee are way off.”

365 Ficlets - Day #349 ~ "Gun Team"

“Load!”

“Loading!”

“Fire in the Hole!”

“Firing!”

BOOM

Everyone on the gun team stopped for a moment and enjoyed the fruit of the last forty seconds' labour and then they began to move like a well-oiled machine to cycle the gun’s breech, bring up another shell, load and fire; all in the same forty seconds.

Lieutenant Peabody was calculating the impact of keeping her most senior pilot on the rotation as well as the entire gun crew, as she worked the team through the orders and watched for opportunities to improve their performance. She wondered if warfare had always been about ‘cost-per-round’ and activity targets, budgets and spreadsheets, but only as much as keeping her mind on the battery protocol and her real-time budget would allow.

Off to one side, O’Hare, the pilot that was costing her forty units more than anyone else, was completely in the zone, guiding shell after shell into the target margin as if he was born to be a shell-jock.

Only time would tell about the budget, but the old man would like the hit profile.

365 Ficlets - Day #348 ~ "Train of Memory"

The late evening train was not as busy as Felipé had expected, as he climbed aboard the westbound train after an extended day in London. Few people expected to meet a Columbian who lived in Swansea, but he was intensely proud of his adopted country. Most of the time he was happy in partial obscurity there at the University; still the occasional trips up to Town were just enough of a tonic for the urbanite in him.

Renata had brought him to Wales. She had captivated him, and when after three magical years together in Buenos Aries she had come to him and said that she wanted to go in search of her Welsh ancestors he had been more than willing to follow her across the globe to a place famous for rain, choral singing and being subjugated by the English.

It had seemed a natural move for both of them to apply to the University in Swansea, and for the next ten years they had been happy there. Now he could not bring himself to leave. It had been four years since she had left him, and still he was unable to break away.

365 Ficlets - Day #347 ~ "Losing the Fight..."

“Mr. Todd is not going to make it through the night, I'm afraid Gina.”

Gina looked up as Freddie wandered into the nurses station and delivered this inevitable yet depressing news as he picked up a drywipe pen to update a different patient's status on the whiteboard. She was a seasoned Ward Sister, she lost patients every week, people too broken to live, but they had all found a friend in Mr. Todd . Every now and again a patient came along who was just playful enough, just enough fun to really grow attached to without their becoming a nuisance, and he had been the latest in a short list over the last couple of years.

“What makes you say that, Fred?”

Gina asked with a noticeable note of concern and worry in her voice.

Freddie shook his head, clearly he did not want to give voice to reason; and yet he steeled himself and answered her;

“He's been anuric for fourteen hours now and his oxygen sats are dropping as well, we keep having to up his mix. It's just the end, the end we've all seen before. I'm sorry, Gina, I didn't mean to sound flip about it.”

She nodded and smiled; she understood the need to be “all business” about the ones that they all became attached to.

365 Ficlets - Day #346 ~ "Song Birth"

The only thing that I can see is the single red light on my monitor. I can’t even see the microphone; it’s so dark in here. I tap the button on the desk beside me, I know where it is by touch now, and the instrumental track comes up in my cans.

My foot starts to tap silently on the thick carpet as I start to slip into the music, counting with my body not my mind, and then I begin.

The song slides out of me like smoke at first, trickling softly, quietly towards the microphone, skating across the melody like a bug on the surface of a pond. The verse builds and my voice picks up weight and power; now the vocal is starting to grab hold of the lead part, pulling its way towards the crescendo of the chorus, exploding into the refrain and then I am silent once again.

I take a deep drag on my cigarette as the music winds its way from the bottom of the chorus to the start of the next verse and so I am stepping back into the stream.

I lose all sense of time; letting the song scratch and claw its way out. Done. It’s over.

365 Ficlets - Day #345 ~ "Free Ride"

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365 Ficlets - Day #344 ~ "Dungeon"

The cold water from the walls was seeping through Geris’s cloak, his torch was sputtering in the draft. When Derral had suggested that they go adventuring, Geris had not really expected cold, wet, dark passageways; never being dry. No that had not been his expectation at all. He had been looking forward to ancient temples, treasure beyond imagining, heroic deeds and perhaps the odd hapless maiden, but nothing had prepared him for reality. He shifted his weight, trying to rest his aching legs; not that it really helped. There was no part of his body that was not soaked and he was fairly sure that he would have given anything to be in a hot bath instead.

The sound of footsteps approaching up the tunnel snapped Geris out of his damp-based melancholia. He closed his hand around the hilt of his sword and raised his shield, waiting, ready for whoever was approaching.

As the approaching torchlight started to get closer, Geris tensed up, trying to steel his nerve. He had been in fights before, but that was no comfort.

365 Ficlets - Day #343 ~ "After the Waiting"

Her lips did not really taste of anything, but kissing them made him feel so transported, so excited that it really didn’t matter one way or the other. She let out a soft moan as she opened her mouth and started to tentatively offer him her tongue, her fingers snaking through his hair. He reciprocated and as their tongues danced across each other and darted urgently into each other’s mouths he let himself slide away.

It could only really have been moments, but they kissed for what seemed like an age, hands traveling everywhere that did not have an overt next-level about it, their shared passion rising as if from nowhere to fill the whole room. Then, on instinct, he let his hand gently cup her breast, his thumb seeking out her nipple through the thin layer of fabric, and she let her head fall back as she pressed her hips against him, pulling his mouth onto her neck.

As he rained kisses down on her neck and the top of her chest he felt a hand slipping over his waistband and then her hand closing around his cock.

365 Ficlets - Day #342 ~ "Opening Night"

The lights came up and he felt the familiar heat bathing his face, and let the applause wash over him. He let the audience bathe him in their welcome, using the time to remember his opening, and then once he was ready he took a big breath and made an overblown ‘cut’ motion.

“So… Thanks for coming down here tonight. Yeah, thanks so much. I can’t tell you how many people you are proving wrong just by being here. Anyway, it’s good to be back in London…”

As he paused for the cheers that would always predictably come from the name-drop on the town he caught a glimpse of movement in the wings, stage right. There should not have been anyone over there and knowing that there was somone darting about on the edge of the stage really threw his rhythm. He nearly didn’t pick up the line after the cheers petered out, but just caught it;

“So a local crowd, then? Excellent!”

He paused for a moment and then unleashed it;

“So who here saw Watchmen? Yeah? A few of you, good. Let me ask you, did the blue cock bother any of you too?”

365 Ficlets - Day #341 ~ "Wake"

“Wipe those fuckin’ tears away yer shallow bastard! You didn’t give a fuck about her, so what are you cryin’ for, eh?”

David was wide eyed and terrifying as he screamed at Tony. The whole room fell silent and turned to watch the confrontation. David sensed he had an audience and addressed the room;

“Yeah, yer may all look, you bunch o’simperin’ arseholes! Not man one o’yer gave a shit about her and yet here you all are, sipping tea and sayin’ how she’ll be missed. Fuckin’ tea! For the love o’ all that’s Holy, where’s the damn whisky? I mean is this a wake or what?”

People shuffled their feet, nervously looking about whilst trying as hard as they might to not make any eye contact with anyone. The room was silent in response; no one dared to disagree with David, in fact they did not so it was easier to stay silent.

David relaxed a little, took a deep breath and then in a more calm and measured voice;

“G’wan, leave. Go. Yer none of you helpin’ an’ frankly yer make me sick.”

Five minutes later he and Tony were alone.

365 Ficlets - Day #340 ~ "From Music to Monday"

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. Really.”

She cocked her head on one side, frowned and then;

“That’s bullshit, and I don’t deserve that. Now come on, what’s wrong?”

Daniel sighed. He had really hoped that he had covered effectively enough, that she would not see through him and see the conflict between his happiness and his disappointment.

“You enjoyed the concert, yeah?”

She nodded, her frown turning into mild concern; suddenly she had no idea where this was going.

“Well I did too, so much in fact, but now we have to go back to reality.”

Still confused she motioned for him to continue.

“Here we are, together, seeing a band that means so much to both of us, at a time in that band’s story that is going to be very important, and I am so happy about that. I’m happy about getting to share this with you, and now it’s over and in another hour we’ll be getting off the train and heading back to our respective homes and neither of us will be able to explain to the people waiting for us why this night was so special.”

365 Ficlets - Day #339 ~ "Sitting on the Fence"

“Is it always like this?”

I look around to find a young fellow who looks a little familiar standing next to me on the crowded platform. I am still trying to place him when he intervenes;

“You don’t quite remember me, do you? I’m the fencing club’s, vice-president’s boyfriend. We met at a party at the weekend.”

It all comes rushing back, and I am slightly embarassed by the fact that I probably did not quite remember him because I was off my face; as usual. It’s no secret that I don’t fence, or that I only really hang around with the University fencing club because of a social coincidence years before, but I imagined that this guy was wondering what on Earth I had been doing at that party.

Again he intruded on my inner monologue;

“You remember? I’m Ted?”

I decide to go with it;

“Yeah, Ted. Sorry about that. Monday morning you know? Yeah, Gina’s chap, I do remember. Just about anyway. Was I very drunk?”

He nodded and chuckled; I kept my face together, but inside my heart was sinking.

“So, anyway, is it always like this?”

365 Ficlets - Day #338 ~ "Twilight Regret"

What I have always hidden from my children troubles me in these, my last hours. I have long since been certain that what I have told them about their mother and the way in which she left our lives is the only truth that they perceive, and that they have no reason to doubt me. Even so, I am suddenly moved to question my decision.

It was the long hot summer of 1976 when I lost her, when our Lottie was three and her brother Peter was only eighteen months old. Her work often kept her on campus long after I had left. The real beauty of my life as a mathematics fellow is that I have always been able to work anywhere, and so I could easily be present in our children’s lives where her requirement for laboratories made a very different impact on her time at home. I still remember the first night that she returned home, somewhat in a daze, her sentences filled with mentions of someone called Alec.

It took two gin and tonics and the dinner I had kept warm for her before I was able to decode that Alec was a new colleague.

365 Ficlets - Day #337 ~ "Before..."

As Horace moved the blade back and forth in a gentle circular motion over the oiled stone he allowed his thoughts to drift to happier places and kinder times, trying to push from his mind that the morning would bring naught but blood and death.

Unlike many of the men under his command he was no longer enamoured of war. A lifetime of killing the enemies of Rome had left him more than jaded, it had genuinely damaged him. He had not seen his wife and sons for nearly two years, and the last time he had been free to spend time with them he had felt no peace whatsoever, constantly haunted by the faces of men with whom he had held no real quarrel and yet he had put them to the sword without a second thought.

It was of no comfort, even, that they would have just as soon run him through if he had not fought with all the fury and cruelty that he could muster. In the heat of war it was not hard to simply survive, but the ghosts that followed him around in the quiet between battles were starting to weigh heavily upon him.

365 Ficlets - Day #336 ~ "La Revancha di Tango"

The house band was playing a rather dirgey tango as Tito walked into the hotel bar. A handful of couples were dancing, most of them American tourists gamefully attempting to tango rather than pulling it off, while most of the tables were occupied by local business men and their Friday night girls.

He made for the bar, cutting a swathe through the lazy clouds of cigarette smoke, feeling his heart quicken to the beat of the music, memories of dancing with Connie swirling around his mind, distracting him from his purpose.

He took a seat at the bar and nodded at the barman, who recognised him and moments later placed a mojito in front of him before gliding away to serve drinks for an impatient looking waitress. He stirred the drink lazily and waited; Sanderson was late, as ever.

He turned on the stool and placed his back against the bar, scanning the room for DIPA, sadly they were easy to spot. Satisfied that there were no faces he recognised, and no suspect new ones, he turned his attention back to his cocktail.

365 Ficlets - Day #335 ~ "Morning Offices"

It felt odd to be there, even though he had often frequented churches in his childhood. Paul was sitting near to the back of the nave, trying to keep a low profile without seeming reticent. This was his first attempt at passing in the Cathedral, and he was conscious of the intelligence that he had received concerning one of the Canons and his ability to spot Keystone members.

Suddenly cued by an unseen nod or gesture the organist tailed off the soft incidental theme he had been playing as the congregation filed into the pews and then struck up a vibrant and powerful piece that Paul did not recognise as the choir entered the church.

The pomp and circumstance of the Anglican High Church no longer held any mystery for Paul, particularly after an assignment in South America the year before, but he did notice that having experienced Catholic congregations had fitted him well for the trick of seeming involved whilst actually observing. Finding those who were ripe for intervention amongst the worshippers was his goal.

365 Ficlets - Day #334 ~ "Beyond his control..."

“What happens now?”

The young boy that I had known only for a short time, but whose face I already knew I would never forget, had the beginnings of tears in his eyes as he interrogated me.

“I mean will I have to go into a home or somethin'? I don't to, I want to go home.”

I smiled, trying to reassure him and buy myself some time while I framed the most honest and yet kind response to his entreaty;

“The thing is, under the circumstances you are going to need an adult or two in your life. Do you have any grandparents?”

His eyes lit up, suddenly there was hope;

“Well, you know that my real Dad died in Iraq?”

I nodded,

“His mum, my real gran, is still alive. I haven't seen her for about six years, and I don't know where she is, but Mum told me only last week that she'd had a letter from her, with money in it for me, to hold until my birthday.”

I nodded again;

“Do you know her full name? We will probably be able to trace her anyway, but it may help.”

He pondered for a moment, then;

“I'm pretty sure it's Fenella Cartwright.”

365 Ficlets - Day #333 ~ "Earthquake Weather"

“I hate to say it, but it feels like earthquake weather.”

The groans around the bar were quite audible. It was not like we hadn’t heard Harry’s crazy predicitons before, but then he never let us forget that he’d been right in ’89.

He sauntered over to the bar, and laid down five bucks, as always. I fetched him a Bud and a shot and went back to cleaning glasses. Everyone else went back to their conversations, newspapers and so forth; everyone except for the woman sitting at the other end of the bar. She was clearly not local; the look on her face when Harry so glibly referenced earthquakes was enough to tell that.

I wandered down the bar to ask her if she needed another drink. As I approached she looked up, quite startled;

“Is there really a kind of weather that makes earthquakes more likely? I mean that old guy said it was ‘earthquake weather’ and then everyone just went back to their business, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.”

I chuckled and put the glass I was polishing on the countertop.

365 Ficlets - Day #332 ~ "The Daily Commute"

Yet again the train was just sitting at a station between Reading and London. The PA carried the familiar grey monotone of an employee with all of the microphone technique of Napalm Death;

“We apologise to passengers for the delay to this service, which is due to unforseen circumstances on the track between Ealing Broadway and London Paddington. We hope to have you on your way as soon as possible, and once again thank you for your patience.”

Not a single person sitting on that train with me had any doubt what “unforseen circumstances” meant. Since the US had bombed Tehran in 2014 Britain has become one of the major targets of Islamic extremist terrorism, but then that would be because it was no secret that we let the American Air Force refuel, use our airspace unhindered and on top of that everyone simply assumed that British aircraft were involved. The war had been short and brutal, no doubt that 'The Allies' had won, but the aftermath? Well, I was glad to be late for work; better than being on a train bomb.

365 Ficlets - Day #331 ~ "Itchy Insomnia"

The night is cold and dark here, alone. I lie under the stars, by virtue of a skylight, and all I seem to be able to do is stare up at them and count them one by one. No matter how hard I try to sleep, nothing but more wakefulness comes.

At first I thought that it was sleeping alone that drove me so far from the arms of Morpheus, but last night there was someone in my bed with me and I passed the night watching her sleep, and then dozing for a couple of hours before dawn when I could finally close my eyes. You might wonder if it is more specifically being without a certain someone in my bed, but seeing as last night was a one-off return match with ‘the one that got away’ I am not sure that she really is the cause of my insomnia.

It does not seem likely that I am anxious about work; all is well, and I am financially secure.

No, having examined all of the other possibilites I can only conclude that I cannot sleep on account of some latent guilt, or perhaps just the fear of being caught. Murder is so stressful.

365 Ficlets - Day #330 ~ "Bad News"

“Mr. Jefferies, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Peter’s shoulders slumped, he seemed to be able to sense the weight of what was coming. After a moment he simply nodded.

“Well, the thing is that as I said I have some bad news. There has been an accident, and I am sorry to have to tell you that your wife and daughter have been killed, Sir.”

Peter made no sound as his entire body started to shake; his entire frame exhibited wave after wave of tremors, each moment the amplitude growing and then subsiding. As the convulsion reached its height it seemed to me that he was about to scream out, keening for his family, but each time he swallowed his grief down and the shaking would subside for a moment or two and then start again.

I wanted to reach out and put my hand on his shoulder, or say something, but confronted with my brother’s grief like this I was suddenly powerless, speechless, and I realised that I had no idea how to reach anyone, let alone him, who was in that much grief. I sat beside him, confused and lost.

365 Ficlets - Day #329 ~ "First Morning"

The sun was warm on Henry’s face as he stepped out of the patio door onto the deck. Breakfast was all laid out; fruit, granola, pastries, and the smell of bacon was wafting out from the kitchen. Looking around, he could not see anyone else out in the garden, so he settled at the table and started to serve himself some of the fruit.

It was good to be back in Cape Town, he could feel himself relaxing back into the pace of life and the sweet, succulent guava and mango were definitely helping to make his first morning feel as real as can be. The mountain was the other part of that anchor to memory and familiarity; ever present, always magnifying the character of the city whether clear and bright like that morning, or shrouded in its ‘tablecloth’.

He was musing on the view and finishing his fruit when Isabella appeared, as if by magic, and laid a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him.

“Welcome home, Henry. We’ve all missed you.”

Henry smiled up at her, happy to see her, and then he started on the fry up.

365 Ficlets - Day #328 ~ "Time Delay"

Time has all of the power in our lives. Time enough to work, but not time enough to play; time enough to lose as much as we can win. It has been said that time is the fire in which we burn, and yet it is also the cooling spring in which we cleanse our souls. It is everything to us.

When the lightning struck the streetlight I can remember seeing time almost stop. As the power of the heavens surged down the pole and into the ground not four feet from me, seconds seemed as minutes, and I was completely aware of not only what was happening, but what was yet to come.

The pressure wave came surging towards me along the sidewalk, as the residual charge in the air made every hair on my body stand on end, and I knew that before another second had ticked by I would be launched into the air, backwards away from the streetlight.

I want to be able to say that I had a witty thought, or a great insight in that split second, but all I really thought about was Frannie. Then just the word ‘bugger’, large at the front of my mind.

365 Ficlets - Day #327 ~ "A Nation of Shopkeepers..."

“Morning, Cal!”

I wave from behind the counter. Jimmy, like many of my customers, is almost always jolly when I see him. I often wonder if he and the others are quite so jolly after they have left the shop with their papers and their cigarettes and other sundries that I provide to their lives.

“Turned out nice again, eh Cal?”

Molly never says anything different, and after having her as a customer for nearly ten years I know to simply add a ten-pack of Marlboro Lights to the total for the copy of the Guardian and the pack of sugar free gum that she has placed on the counter as an accompaniment to these unchanging, empty words.

Shopkeepers know all too well that the greater share of human interaction is fleeting and meaningless, but I always try to remember how precious it is to me when I have a regular customer that will actually step beyond platitudes and linger for a few moments to share an opinion or better still, really care about mine.

As Molly and Jimmy leave I tidy the counter and wait for Susan to call in.