Lily arrived early and got a nice, private table. An hour passed, and the chair across from her remained empty. He’d asked to see her – so where was he?
She tried his cell phone. No answer. Couples came and left, whispering with pity as they walked past. Would he really stand her up like this?
When the last of the breakfast dishes were cleared, Lily found herself alone in the restaurant. Tears filled her eyes. The silhouette of a man appeared in the doorway. Could it be?
Welcome to the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge. In 250 words or less, write a story incorporating the elements in the picture and the written prompt above. Do not include the prompt in your entry. The 250 word limit will be strictly enforced.
Please keep language and subject matter to a PG-13 level.
Use the comment section below to submit your entry. Entries will be accepted until Tuesday at 5:00 PM Pacific Time. No political or religious entries, please.
On Tuesday night, judges will select the strongest entries, and on Wednesday afternoon, we will open voting to the public with an online poll so they may choose the winner. Voting will be open until 5:00 PM Thursday.
On Saturday morning, the winner will be recognized as we post the winning entry along with the picture as a feature. Then, at year end, the winners will be featured in an anthology like this one. Best of luck to you all in your writing!
Entries only in the comment section. Other comments will be deleted. See HERE for additional information and terms. Please note the rule changes for 2015.
At 9:30 AM, Lily Sherman sat on the leather-upholstered cafe chair, dividing her attention between her half-empty glass and her half-full hope he’d show up soon. She ordered another mimosa because she felt her courage came by the glass.
Lily sagged as each new man entered and walked by, as each fizzy inch melted to an orange puddle at the bottom of her glass, and as any expectation he would answer her earlier call evaporated.
“I’ll have another,” she said, turning to Alan, the young waiter, who already had one waiting for her. Eventually, as more of the breakfast crowd filtered out of the cafe, the women on the arm of their men, Lily couldn’t keep the tears from falling any longer.
Alan came over to her table and smiled, saying, “You just take your time. Let me get you another coffee. Whatever you need.” He shooed away waiters who wanted to clear Lily’s table and told his manager he’d cover the cost of the lost turnover.
After the last of the breakfast service dishes were cleared, Lily looked around the empty cafe and shook her head. From the far doorway, she saw a man’s silhouette walking toward her table. It was Alan.
“I’m sorry the gentleman you were hoping for never showed up, Miss…”
“I’m Lily. Oh, he was here all right,” Lily said, smiling up at Alan in the near-noon light. “I was just looking in the wrong direction all morning, that’s all.”
It was him. And it wasn’t him. He had the same eyes. But he was looking at Lily differently. He reached her table and sat across her. She wanted to ask him why he was so late, but a little voice in her head told her not to.
” I am sorry I was late. I thought I knew how to say this. But I don’t. I am not good with words. I tried to prepare a speech but I couldn’t write a thing.”
Lily’s heart started beating fast.
” The irony is, I never thought it would ever come to this. But I can’t live in denial anymore.”
Lily blinked to push back the tears threatening to fill her eyes.
” I can’t live my life that way anymore. I want different things.”
Lily shut her eyes and prayed this was a nightmare.
‘’ I want my life to take a new direction. Permanently.’’
Lily’s heart stopped beating.
” I want to have kids with you. I want you by my side till I get old and grey. Lily, will you marry me?”
An hour. You’ll wait for him an hour, like you always do. He made the reservation for the hotel restaurant. Starched napkins, well-dressed patrons, flawless service.
There are couples at all the other tables. You feel conspicuous. You see the women give you glances of pity. You imagine them clucking, pitying the pathetic thing left alone. You pick up your cell phone, call his number. No answer.
You have another cup of coffee. The third time the waiter asks, you order a pastry. You eat it with a fork, to prevent sticky hands. The busboy takes your dishes away. You steal a glance at your reflection in the cell phone screen. You look marvelous. Calm. Cool. Collected. Beautiful.
The other diners leave. You wonder if the restaurant closes after breakfast, if they’ll kick you out. Surely the cost of the pastry covers a few hours with the silver and linens.
You check the time on your phone. Nearly an hour. You invite the tears to fill your eyes. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara. Gentle tears. Sobbing would be inappropriate.
You pick up your purse. You see a shadow in the door to the restaurant. Could it be him? No. The man comes to your table and flashes a badge.
“Mrs. Lily Johansen?”
You nod.
“I’m afraid we have bad news. Your husband…”
And all you can think is that when your next husband’s time comes, you’ll increase the poison’s dosage. An hour is entirely too long.
Now that he had finally appeared, Lily had to admit she was terrified. All those months spent searching for just her type. Then weeks of email conversations getting to know about each other, being careful not to spring any more information on him than he was ready for. Still, he seemed to pass all her criteria with flying colors. There was a lot to consider. Were they really compatible? Was he willing to do everything she needed from him?
Neither of them were exactly spring chickens yet both had a lot of life ahead of them. A mistake now could be costly so it was very important that both of them knew the kind of commitment the other required. Emotionally, physically, and financially. Yes, finances figured into his decision. Lily was willing to pay a great deal, but in accepting the money he would be binding himself to a potentially risky contract.
The man sat down across from Lilly, his face inscrutable.
In a voice which sounded much calmer than she felt Lily asked, “Have you reached your decision?”
The man produced a document from the inside pocket of his sport coat and passed it across the table. Only when he was sure Lily had seen his signature on the bottom line did he allow a smile to spread across his face.
The large bold font of the document read :
Organ Donor Permission and Confidentiality Agreement
He sighed and slowly walked down the narrow, shadowy seating area. Lily took in a deep breath and straightened up as the silhouette passed through shadow into sunlit radiance. Once he came into recognizable focus, she let out a frustrated gasp and slouched into her chair.
“How long?” he asked, pulling out a chair to sit.
“How did you know?” she sheepishly asked.
“Someone I know saw you in here.”
Lily smirked, reaching for her napkin. He watched as she nervously played with it in her hand.
“How long, this time?” he asked in a more demanding tone.
“A week, I think.”
He sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”
Lily only shrugged her shoulders.
“Did you have to play it up to the whole restaurant?” he asked, drawing a perplexed look from her. “Yeah, I heard about that, too.”
“Oh, you never let me have any fun.”
“A big brother has to look out for his little sister.”
Lily allowed a faint smile. “They all felt so sorry for me.”
“Look, I understand how unpredictable you behave when you’re on drugs. But seriously? Inventing a fake stand-up for attention? That’s a new low for you.”
“I was bored.”
“Maybe it’s time for a change?”
“Not that again.”
“It’s a great facility. Just to get you clean.” He paused to quell his surging emotions. “I’d like my real sister back.”
Lily sat in reflection, biting her lower lip. “Do they serve pancakes there?”
Lily and Mike had dated for a few months, and he’d never been even one minute late before. Something had to be terribly wrong. Then she saw him standing in the doorway. Lily looked carefully at her handsome man, as he approached the table noting his disheveled suit, red face and swollen eyes.
“What happened?” she asked quietly. Lily waited for him to reply, sensing that this would be the only time Mike would ever talk about why he was late. He was a man of few words who typically showed his love and devotion through his actions.
“No,” Mike replied. “My brother, Mark, was killed in Iraq when he was on a peacekeeping mission with his troop. They ran over an IED. Everyone was killed. I’m sorry I didn’t call. My cell phone battery ran down.”
Lily came around to Mike’s chair and hugged him hard. As she held him, his shoulders began to heave and tears slid down his cheeks. Lily felt helpless knowing nothing she could say or do would bring Mark back.
Then Mike whispered, “In the past, Memorial Day was about going to the beach and hosting barbecues. Today, I learned its true meaning. I’d like to go to the parade on Main Street.”
After the parade ended, they planted a flag in the lawn of the city square and watched it wave gently in the breeze. It was the first time Mike and Lily attended the ceremony, but it wouldn’t be their last.
But alas, it isn’t to be. Her hopes are dashed as she recognizes the trim figure of the maître de.
“So sorry, madam, but if I could be so forward, I’m going to have to ask you to take your leave. We are expecting very important guests to arrive shortly.”
With renewed resolve, she drops a few francs on the table and bends over to gather up a heavy dark satchel by her feet. Rising to her full height, she takes a deep breath and marches toward the door. Without so much as a backward glance, she reaches the busy street and raises a hand.
A taxi swerves to the curb just feet from her. Yet, before she can grasp the door handle, it swings outward. A tall, dark haired gentleman in a suit steps out and sweeps her into his arms. They embrace passionately, the sounds and activity on the street all but forgotten in the heat of their kiss.
With a firm grip on her elbow, he guides her into the back seat of the cab before quickly climbing in beside her and barking instructions to the driver.
“Airport. And there’s an extra hundred in it if you get us there in under thirty.”
The cab is barely 3 blocks away and moving fast when a limo rolls up to the curb, followed immediately by a loud explosion. Chaos and mayhem rips through the city, the origin of the deadly blast an abandoned satchel.
Title: “Ravenous”
She was alone in the restaurant. Tears filled her eyes. She spotted a man’s silhouette in the doorway. Could it be Charles? Embarrassed, he would see her this way.
His approach echoed in the empty dining area.
“Hello Lily.”
She could hear her heart beating, and turned toward the park. “Hello Charles.”
“You’re crying.”
She wanted to acknowledge, but knew her voice would betray her. Just a few minutes ago, she was upset being alone in the restaurant. Now, she was happy nobody could see this exchange. She heard the other chair rake across the floor. She recognized the scent of his cologne.
“I’m sorry you’re upset.”
She loved more than his voice. Despite the tears running down her face, she was thrilled he remembered. She felt the warmth of his knee against hers. Memories came flooding back. She wanted to run, but knew her legs would fail. This was not how she had planned to greet him. The touch of his finger on her cheek brought more memories. She couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer.
“The waitress asked me if I was expecting a guest. I told her that we had indeed made a date to meet five years to the day, right where we last said goodbye. I didn’t know about the renovations and the added outdoor seating. I’m sorry you thought I forgot.”
She turned and observed his blue eyes sparkling. “Charles, five years is too long.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving…can we go?”
Lily stared across the restaurant dining room into the chocolate brown eyes of Simon Firks.
He was rugged, tanned, with a smile that could knock her senseless. Not the type to settle down seriously, Simon Firks was a devil in blue jeans. He was also one half of the power behind Grant & Firks (names disclosed only to clients) Lotus Pool Detective Agency.
Lily met him the day he moved into the one-bedroom unit next door, bringing home the first of many women. Lily made it a point to turn up the music or head out on errands whenever Fabio Firks returned.
Her opinion changed when she watched him slip into a nondescript white sedan six months prior. Always unnaturally curious, Lily hopped into her pickup truck and slunk after him. Lotus Pool met Lily.
Simon sat down at the table. His boisterous entrance sent the white pristine tablecloth whooshing in displeasure. “Sorry, Lil,” he said with a tight smile. “I had rats.”
Rats. Code word for the people he tailed.
“You knew we were meeting. Couldn’t you have postponed your job?”
Simon threw down a brown envelope, photos spilling across the cloth. Lily caught a glimpse of two people entwined in embrace. That long hair, that green dress. “My God,” Lily said. “That’s us.”
Simon nodded, his body tense with apprehension. “I received these in the mail. It seems the rats are now tailing me.”
She didn’t even know what Mike looked like. All his profile pictures were of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. The man in the doorway stepped into the light—tall, thin, and possibly 80 years old. He turned toward the bar and she breathed a sigh of relief.
She was worried now. Mike had always been punctual. Ever since her brother had “introduced” them on Facebook a month ago, Mike had always texted her when he said he would, had always been available to chat online whenever they’d set a time. This wasn’t like him.
She smiled grimly. How well could she know someone she’d never met after a month of almost daily online conversations? It was odd, but she felt like she knew him intimately. When he’d said he would be in town and wanted to meet her, she didn’t hesitate.
Giving in to her worst imaginings, she called her brother.
“Hey,” he answered. “What’s up?”
“John,” she started slowly, “I was just wondering … if you might have heard from Mike lately? We were going to meet for breakfast, but he hasn’t shown up.”
“Breakfast?” John repeated. “Today?”
“Yes.” She felt some embarrassment. She hadn’t told John that she and Mike had connected so quickly. “He said he was going to be in town, so we arranged to meet. But it’s been over an hour now.”
John exhaled loudly. “Lily, I’m not sure what’s going on, but Mike won’t be there. He died. Three weeks ago.”
No, it wasn’t him.
It was the rabbits.
It was always the rabbits.
It is always going to be the rabbits.
So she had let the huge Dutch Lop go when she left him the last time. Who knew that lordly, pedigreed animal would mate with the local wild rabbits?. Who knew just how many rabbits would appear over time and wreak havoc on his beautiful back yard, eating and pooping and randomly destroying areas of grass and all the beautiful flowers in the half barrel planters?
But he called last week and wanted to meet her and talk. He wanted her to come back. And he had not mentioned the rabbits. He had neither accused nor blamed. He wanted her back.
It still had to be the rabbits….
She prepared to leave, and he walked through the door, saw her, walked purposely towards her, and sat down beside her.
Without preamble, he took her hand, looked into her eyes and said, “Please come back. We can make this work. I love you.”
She trembled. She had missed him. She still loved him.
He reached into his pocket and took out a photo and handed it to her.
With tears in her eyes she looked at the photo and then at him and said, “Yes, I can live with this. I love you.”
Hand in hand they left.
A moment later the waiter found the photo on the table: a beautiful yard with one corner full of tiny crosses.
As this man passed through the doorway, she could see now it wasn’t Sean. This man was much taller with short graying hair and he was wearing a dark suit. As he strode further into the restaurant he scanned the room, taking in every corner until he locked eyes on her. His pace quicken as he approached her table, he extend his hand and queried “Ms. Allen, Lily Allen?” His hand extended to shake hers.
“Y…Yes, I am Lily Allen, who are you and where is Sean?” she managed to stammer, while wiping the tears from her face.
“Ms. Allen, I am special agent Montgomery, I am with the FBI. It is imperative that you accompany me right now, it is extremely important,” he said with a crisp authority as he grabbed her arm and smoothly guided her up and away from the table.
Lily was shocked, trying to comprehend the events of recent days. First she gets a call out of the blue from Sean, the man she had loved when they worked together at the laboratory. That is until he suddenly disappeared last summer. No warning, no goodbyes, just an eventual text, explaining he was going to Dubai for a new job. Now here she is being taken somewhere by the FBI? What did this have to do with Sean’s mysterious disappearance? As they stepped outside a black sedan with dark tinted windows was waiting at the curb, the back door suddenly flung open. It was Sean.
Time to Remember
Five years had come and gone
Too many memories invaded my mind
I asked to see her one more time, why
I knew that it wasn’t her fault
I closed my eyes and imagine the horrid scene
The sand, the truck, the explosion, all that blood
Why did she tell him he could go
One more mission, then I’m coming home—his last words
Headline read—Ambushed
One soldier dead; four gravely wounded
Miles and miles away, lonely, afraid
Months of uncertainty; updates slowly come
Death came in the night
Why, why did she let him go
I needed to ask her one more time
I knew I would be late; I sat on the bench
Time ticking away; tick tock, tick tock
Staring forever into the emptiness
It was cold, wind biting at my neck
Thirty minutes, forty-five, an hour more
Next thing I’m standing in the doorway
Across the room she sat; all alone
As beautiful as the day we met
My knees grew weak, hands sweating, heart pounding
Our eyes met, I felt white all over
She moved quickly, I shook
A feeling of horror flooded my soul
I don’t want to remember
You need to remember, sounded in my head
A single tear rolled down her cheek
Finally, we embraced; softly, then firmer
She spoke–he was my son too
I cried
Memorial Day 2015
We Remember
The man in the suit walked straight to her table. “Ms. Braxton?”
Terry had made the reservation in her name. They knew damn well who she was. This was how he cancelled? Not only late but without a phone call. Never again…
“Ms. Braxton, there is a man waiting for you at the front desk,” he said. “I believe it is in your best interest to meet him there.”
She threw the napkin from her lap onto her empty bread plate. It didn’t have the same feel as a plate smashed on the floor but it would have to do. “Fine,” she said. “Lead on.”
His bright yellow vest over the dark blue uniform contrasted against the dark woodwork near the front of the restaurant. It wasn’t Aaron. He motioned for her to step over to an alcove near the coat check.
“Your meeting had been marked on his calendar in his phone with this location,” he said.
“He was supposed to meet me here this afternoon,” she said.
The man’s eyes softened. Their watery blue would haunt her forever after this moment. “He ran into some trouble on the road today,” he said. “He hit the wall over on 8th and Vine.”
The street painting! He told her yesterday he would put an end to the painting on that wall, would make it impossible for anyone to desecrate it again.
“We thought it best to deliver this in person.”
Stood Up
She’d waited an hour as the restaurant emptied from the breakfast rush. No call, no message. She hoped he was safe; his car was so small.
Then she saw the silhouette framed against the morning outdoors. It was him, but not: shaggy hair; gigantic shoes; baggy pants. When he turned to address the hostess, she saw the makeup. She saw the nose.
Shame averted her eyes. Chad had gone clown.
“There you are, baby!”
He clomped over. She wrenched a smile onto her face. All that time and therapy for nothing. Maybe this was that something they had to get through. Everybody had something, right? As long as he didn’t honk, she’d be okay. “What’s this?”
“It’s a proposal!” He reeled handkerchiefs from his blazer pocket.
Crazy hope flared. Maybe this really was the last time. “A what?”
He frowned; the makeup frowned, too. “It’s in here somewhere.” He paused. Eyebrows jumped. Mouth rounded. He pulled out the last handkerchief.
It held something.
She closed her eyes and stuck out her hand. “This had better be a ring.”
“It is.”
Something not metal slipped onto her finger.
She looked. A thin purple balloon. “Oh, Chad.”
“No one named Chad looks like this, baby.” Honk. Honk. “My name is Bloogo.”
“Save the song and dance.” She dropped the balloon ring into her glass of soda water. She pitched the water at his crotch and connected. As he spluttered, she walked out. “Break a leg, Chad. Or a neck.”