Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season
a microfiction
He came to Carlos’s shop every day. Same chair, same striped shirt, same white brimmed hat, same order–Espresso, one sugar (meaning two, with a wink. A secret between friends).
Otherwise, Carlos knew little besides he was an author, always jotting in his leather notebook while sipping espresso.
He must have had some renown, Carlos assumed, because occasionally, people would stop, shake his hand, ask for an autograph or a picture.
The hurricanes came and went, and with them regimes rose and fell–what were such matters to a simple store owner like Carlos.
Except now, each day, that chair remained empty.
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A/N:
Based on one of the many, wonderful prompts from Vocal Social Society.
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About the Creator
Matthew J. Fromm
Full-time nerd, history enthusiast, and proprietor of arcane knowledge.
Here there be dragons, knights, castles, and quests (plus the occasional dose of absurdity).
I can be reached at [email protected]
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