Fire Red Midnight is a short story series and will be presented in five parts, join me every Thursday to see where this story leads. All comments & questions are welcome.
It was midnight, too late to call one of her girlfriends or to see a movie.
Amber rubbed down the wrinkles in her fire red dress. She looked at her reflection in a store window, the white tightly coiled rose sat just above her ear. Tapping the sweat from her brow she thought “I am not going to let this fifty-dollar dress go to waste, fuck that!”
It had already been a hell of a night. No, she wasn’t used to this side of town, she didn’t know anything about the million-dollar watches, and the eighty-dollar hair dues.
When he asked if she had been there before, she didn’t want to appear indifferent or poor, so she quickly answered, “of course darling”.
The neighborhood she was from had no fresh market for perfectly green snapped peas, or lovely tiger lilies to line the sidewalk. The only flowers were fake and they covered trees of late loved ones who were caught in the cross fire of rage. He didn’t need to know that, he didn’t need to know that she hadn’t eaten anything for two days because she bought this overpriced dress, for this overpriced night with this overpriced brother.
They had met at a coffee shop, he was buying some shamefully priced latte, and she was only there to stay warm. It was April in New York, a mixture of rain, and more rain had drowned her as she recited her poetry written the night before to the random people scrambling by. No one listened no one seemed to care. She had decided to walk four blocks toward uptown, no one would miss her. Drenched she sat in a chair trying to appear that she belonged there, asking for small cups of free water, although she was already shivering and wet.
He walked over and asked what she was drinking, she quickly lied and said a small green tea. He offered her another on him. She smiled and said, no thank you. He wouldn’t let up and bought one anyway. As she stirred in the honey, he entertained her with compliments of how beautiful her soggy hair looked. She gobbled down his compliments and the hot green tea, burning the tip of her tongue in the process. He appeared to not notice, and continued to speak. Effortlessly, pronouncing words, she pretended to understand. He smelled of opportunity and liberation and his skin glowed pecan brown.
It had been so long since a man had given her their time,
it had been never since someone of his caliber had.
She watched his hands as they motioned gently with his words, and ordered more green tea. He asked if she was some type of actor or artist, she answered “yes”. He told her he could tell by the long brown and purple skirt she wore. She decided not to tell him she found him slightly attractive as well and the skirt came from the thrift store and cost her less than the tea she was now drinking.
It was settled they would hook up a couple nights from now, and he would show her a wonderful time.
The time wasn’t wonderful, it had turned into a tragedy. She leaned her tiny frame against the store window.
She could still hear his smooth voice in her head “Let me drive you home then…I’m sorry you felt uncomfortable…he didn’t mean it that way”.
In what other way could his friend had meant it. He was a regular for picking up strays they became his projects, she knew an insult when she heard one, she was broke…not stupid. A low murmur grew in the upscale restaurant as she stood and shouted, “fuck all of you” the table froze accept for Shane who apologetically chased behind her as she marched out.
Now she stood alone at night on the other side of town. Pulling off her high heels she started the long bare-foot journey to her tiny apartment.
Written by Life Writez
The Interrupted 