Weekly Short Story: The Cafe’

Harper Mallory looked down at her watch. It was one of those weird times of the day where she was torn between eating a late breakfast or having an early lunch. There was a word for it. There was a word for everything, she thought to herself. The day was a cloudy ominous one that seemed to threaten the people walking on Charles Avenue with a sudden downpour of rain at any moment. Harper realized that she wasn’t dressed for that and this day was turning into a dreary and unremarkable excuse for an early martini.

After walking for a few minutes, the answer to her earlier dilemma was staring right in front of her in the form of Dale’s Cafe’. She smiled. It was a Saturday morning and she didn’t really need to be anywhere but she just had to get out of that tiny apartment. It had been several months since her boyfriend Chris disappeared and she just wanted to put all of that behind her. She swore she could still smell his cologne on her pillow even though she had washed it many times since.

Harper walked up to the outdoor counter of the small cafe and ordered a coffee with creme and sugar. The older lady seemed pleasant enough and offered a return smile as she handed over Harper’s change. A few moments later with coffee in hand she made her way to a two person table as far away from the Barista as possible. People just weren’t her thing.

It felt something a little below sweater weather and the sky seemed to get a little darker. Harper stared at the coffee in her cup. Chris had been the perfect boyfriend for over two months. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Where did everything go wrong? Days and nights of second guessing everything she said and did. Their final conversation resulted in a reaction. A bad reaction. She never saw it coming. Nary, a warning sign to be seen.

He wasn’t physically abusive. Harper had been in one of those relationships before and it ended pretty much the same way as her relationship with Chris had. Chris was different. She should have picked up on his obsession with cleanliness. She never thought it would lead to yelling. She really didn’t like yelling.

About half way through her cup and a few thoughts later, a young couple purchased a couple of drinks and took a seat several feet away from Harper. No waves. No hello. No eye contact. “Was this one of those spy situations?”, she wondered to herself. The man sported dark features and wore a baseball cap. She couldn’t make out the logo but it was probably a baseball team. She wasn’t into sports. The woman was blonde haired and petite. It was the kind of small that made Harper wonder if she was eating properly.

A few minutes later, things got more interesting. A hand slammed down on the table nearly topping over the couple’s drinks. The murmuring began to get louder and started to form into words. They were unkind words. The kind of words that hurt and all directed at the young lady. Harper tried not to look in their direction. She couldn’t help it. Tears started forming in the young lady’s eyes.

Harper’s heart began beating faster in her chest. This is exactly what her last night with Chris was like. His voice and his words cut like a knife. This woman. This young and frail looking woman was a victim in much the same way she had been all of those months ago. She caught the words “dumb, cunt, and worthless” as if the man didn’t care who heard them. The woman held her face in her hands.

That seemed to make the man yell even louder. All of the words could be heard now. It was so suddenly clear to Harper. The crime that this small woman committed. The crime that was so horrible that they had to leave their apartment and get their morning coffee elsewhere. No sugar.

Anyone watching the scene play out without audio would think that the lady must have cheated on him with another man. Because, why would he be so visibly agitated? Although a steady stream of people walked by the cafe’, no one seemed to care about the verbal violence playing out before them. A frightened little voice between bellows of anger and near hatred spilled into the cacophony of sound as the fighting continued.

Harper slowly stood up and gathered her things. She couldn’t let this go on much longer. She felt so much pity for this poor woman. She could make all of this stop. It was her duty. Much in the same way that Chris had to go away, so did this angry man wearing a baseball cap. She slowly walked up behind the man and brushed the tip of her index finger against his exposed and dare she say, sweaty neck. In the time it took for her to draw her next breath, the couple had vanished. First the man and within milliseconds, the small and abused woman to the notice of no one at all.

Harper looked up at the sky. It was still gray but seemed to be getting a little lighter. This day might not turn out to be a bad one after all. She smiled. “Miss, your mug!”, the lady behind the counter yelled out to her. “Oh, sorry. I must have been daydreaming.”, She said. After placing the mug back on the counter, Harper continued walking down Charles Avenue.

Somewhere in time a young blonde woman holds her baby daughter up in the air. The child laughing as though this was the best thing ever. Another older male child lays on the blanket next to her. The birds in the park are singing their morning tunes as the sun begins to rise over the park. She turns to her right and looks at a man pushing a young boy on a swing. She smiles. He smiles back and she thinks “This truly is going to be the best day ever.”

Weekly Short Stories

I was going to write this post yesterday but I got caught up in other things and never got back around to doing it.

I love giving myself challenges. I have challenged myself to write short stories during the busiest time of year and accomplished that. I have challenged myself to create a daily video for a year and not only did that but I am still doing it. I’m over 600 daily videos in to it.

This brings me to this post. My next challenge is going to be to write a small 1000-1500 word short story every single week. I want to do this for an entire year.

Once I commit to something, I usually do it. I wrote the first story this morning. It isn’t polished and the point of these stories is to write them. The idea is get the story down and move on to the next thing. Some will be better than others.

I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.

Excellent QOTD

“Your relationships will rarely be healthier than your self-esteem.

If the time you spend alone is already enjoyable to some degree—that is, if you have a healthy internal monologue and generally feel good about yourself—then you will have a fairly high bar for the type of relationships you’ll enter.

But if you’re unhappy with yourself, then you are more likely to put up with bad relationships because they may occasionally make you feel better than you do alone. If you want a great relationship, the first thing you want is to be comfortable with yourself.”

— James Clear’s Weekly Newsletter

Goodbye Emma!

We had to put down the last of the two hounds this morning. Emma was old and her hips have started failing her. Mitzi left us over six months ago when she could no longer get up by herself.

She is a coonhound and in some circles they take that description as racist. I can assure you it is not.

A coonhound, colloquially a coon dog, is a type of scenthound, a member of the hound group. They are an American type of hunting dog developed for the hunting of raccoons, hence their name, and also for feral pigs, bobcats, cougars, and bears. There are six distinct breeds of coonhound. Wikipedia

via Wikipedia

Between the two hounds, I’ve always found Emma to be more friendly. Mitzi was never unkind but they have such distinct personalities. Both dogs brought joy to our lives and we will be forever grateful to have had them in our lives.

HDWGH – Story 69 – The Surfing Saga of Santa Cruz Otter

**Now:**
Laughter echoed along the shores of Santa Cruz as beachgoers watched an adorable otter balancing on a surfboard, looking like a true wave-riding pro.

**Before:**
In the tranquil waters of Santa Cruz, a mischievous yet endearing otter named Olive had developed an unusual obsession with surfboards. Her adventure began one sunny morning when she curiously hopped onto a deserted surfboard left on the beach.

Olive’s tiny paws gripped the board as she rocked back and forth, mimicking the gentle rhythm of the waves. To everyone’s surprise, she managed to balance herself, much like a skilled surfer. Her antics drew the attention of a few early risers, and soon enough, her fame spread along the coastline.

The word about the “surfing otter” reached a local news outlet, and soon, Santa Cruz was buzzing with excitement. Beach enthusiasts and tourists alike flocked to the shores, hoping to catch a glimpse of the adorable otter in action.

Olive, reveling in the attention, took her newfound hobby to a whole new level. She began to “borrow” surfboards left unattended by beachgoers, turning the act of “highjacking” into her signature move. With her keen sense of balance and natural affinity for water, she rode the waves with remarkable finesse, earning her the title of “Santa Cruz’s Littlest Surfer.”

As videos of Olive’s antics went viral, surfboard manufacturers started designing miniature boards for otters, complete with colorful patterns and tiny fins. The trend caught on, and locals began to embrace the otter’s presence as a symbol of their unique beach culture.

Olive’s playful escapades brought joy to the community and turned Santa Cruz into a hotspot for otter enthusiasts and surf lovers alike. Businesses embraced the trend, creating otter-themed merchandise and even hosting “otter surfing” events to raise awareness about wildlife conservation.

In the end, what started as an adorable quirk turned into a heartwarming tale of a little otter that taught a whole town to embrace the unexpected. So, if you ever find your surfboard missing in Santa Cruz, don’t be surprised if you catch a glimpse of Olive, the surfing sensation with a penchant for adventure!

HDWGH – Story 68 – Cookie Crisis – Part 2

This is the second of two different types of stories. Both have the same writing prompt which is a story about how a cookie can cause chaos. Artwork by Adobe FireFly.

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

** Now**
Mara stared in disbelief at the giant screen in Times Square. The news ticker scrolled: “Wall Street Crashes. Dow Plummets. Cause Unknown.” People were running around in a frenzy, cars were honking, and sirens blared in the distance. She clutched the half-eaten chocolate chip cookie in her hand, her eyes widening as she realized the impossible chain of events she had unwittingly set into motion.

**Before**

Mara, a junior programmer at a cybersecurity firm, was having an awful day. Her code kept breaking, and her boss was breathing down her neck. All she needed was a break, so she headed to her favorite bakery.

Across the street, in a small nondescript office, an elite team of stock traders were executing high-frequency trades. Their algorithm, “Bullseye,” needed the internet connection to be flawless. Every millisecond counted.

As Mara walked into the bakery, she couldn’t resist the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. She bought one and decided to sit at the café corner to savor it.

Feeling whimsical, she took out her phone and connected to the bakery’s WiFi. She posted a photo of her cookie on Instagram with the hashtag #TheCookieThatSavedMyDay.

Little did she know, the bakery’s WiFi router was on its last leg. Her upload pushed it over the edge. It crashed.

This bakery, due to a quirk of geography and infrastructure, shared an internet junction with the building across the street—where “Bullseye” was executing trades. The momentary lapse in connection triggered a fail-safe, sending “Bullseye” into a sell-off mode to minimize risks.

Within seconds, other trading algorithms interpreted this as a sign of impending market doom and began selling off, too. The cascading effect was instantaneous. The Dow Jones plummeted, causing widespread panic.

Mara finished her cookie, oblivious to the traders across the street pulling their hair out and the news reporters scrambling for an explanation. As the world around her spiraled into chaos, she simply thought, “Well, at least the cookie was good.”

HDWGH – Story 67 – Cookie Crisis – Part 1

This is the first of two different types of stories. Both have the same writing prompt which is a story about how a cookie can cause chaos. Artwork by Adobe FireFly.

**Now:**
A sea of people filled the streets of New York City, horns blaring, sirens wailing, and chaos reigning supreme.

**Before:**
It all started innocently enough with a simple chocolate chip cookie. Emily, a cheerful baker, had just pulled a batch of mouthwatering cookies out of her oven. Little did she know that her sweet creation would set off a series of events that would turn the city upside down.

As Emily placed the tray of cookies on her windowsill to cool, a strong gust of wind swept through, sending the scent of warm cookies wafting through the air. A food critic, on a mission to find the next big culinary sensation, caught a whiff of the aroma. Intrigued, he followed his nose and ended up at Emily’s bakery.

After tasting one of Emily’s cookies, the critic was blown away. He immediately posted a rave review online, and the news spread like wildfire. Tourists from all over flocked to the bakery, forming lines that stretched around the block. The sudden influx of visitors overwhelmed the local transportation system, causing massive traffic jams.

As lines of hungry customers spilled out onto the sidewalks, street performers and vendors saw an opportunity to capitalize on the chaos. They began entertaining the crowds with impromptu performances, turning the streets into a stage.

With the increased foot traffic, local businesses saw an unexpected boost in sales. But the demand for supplies quickly outstripped the available resources. Delivery trucks piled up in the narrow streets, unable to make their deliveries, and confusion reigned as drivers honked their horns impatiently.

In the midst of it all, a film crew that had been shooting a movie nearby found themselves caught up in the whirlwind of events. They decided to incorporate the chaos into their movie, creating a blockbuster that became an unexpected hit.

And so, a single cookie set off a chain reaction that led to traffic jams, street performances, economic booms, and even a hit movie in the heart of the city that never sleeps. It just goes to show that sometimes, the smallest things can have the biggest impact!