Raelyn

               I have woken up consumed in so much anger. I have woken up in so much love that intends to give. I have woken up and I have painted it in pink.  I have woken up and painted it blue and given her the colors of the sun. 

           My phone rings and the caller are asking for a name, a woman that sounds familiar to me. My voice is raspy as I pick up the phone. 

 "I want to speak to Stephanie." A five-foot nine man speaks with his round toned belly. His fingers trace over his black mustache. Pans drop and clatter on the linoleum cold floor. 

"Well, well, well. If it isn't you" he said as he leaned back in his chair.

The phone crashes and silenced in with a beep.

Coffee pots shatter near my feet, alarms and levers have been pulled. My ears have been shot, I am barely holding on with a shocking panic. Glass covers the black and white checkered, endless floor. My head slowly tilts as it shakes, I skim the faces in the room. I look for someone who might have dialed my number. Every face that I see is wrinkled, covered in laugh lines. Black coffee brews on a Sunday morning, this is a quiet, warm little place. However, something ill stabs me painfully in the gut. The room feels closed in, and I feel smaller than before. Friends I used to have holler for my name, the sound of it rings a bell but I do not answer. I have a strong feeling that pulls me further. Without a word, I have untied my apron, I have bunched it un-neatly onto the counter, and during the hour of the rush, I walk out. 

 

 

 

-Micah Vincent