Sissy sipped on her hot chocolate, wrapping her fingers around the blue floral mug. Autumnal winds rattled the café door. She looked out of the window at the grey. Angry fists of clouds skittered across the sky, but she had a sense of peace, glad she was indoors. Her counselling session had gone well. She was healing.
The man sitting at the next table didn’t seem at peace. His toes tapped the cream-tiled floor. He stirred his black coffee several times, banging the spoon on the rim, then consulting his watch. His eyes were sunken and black. He hid his thin frame in an oversized camouflage jacket. His straggly brown hair was unwashed and greasy.
Sissy determined not to stare. She looked outside – remembering.
A woman passed by the window. Her red hair flowed behind. She bent into the wind and was clearly in a hurry.
The café doorbell pinged as she entered. Sissy was instantly mesmerized. The curly red hair framed a white, oval face with huge green eyes. Sad eyes, though, thought Sissy. She’d been there. She fingered the Refuge leaflets in her pocket that she had promised to distribute.
The woman’s clothes were bohemian. A skirt in reds and greens, mixed with golds, touched her ankles, paired with a white gipsy blouse under a black bolero jacket. Bold, thought Sissy, confident, and yet – sad eyes.
‘Where the f*ck have you been?’ said the man as the woman joined him at the table.
‘I er … had to buy food,’ she said.
‘What?’ His tone was harsh.
Sissy was triggered.
The man gripped the woman’s wrist – she winced.
Sissy noticed her white face was heavily made up. It didn’t quite disguise the bruise on her chin.
She had always used dark makeup herself. She looked over the top of her mug.
‘You know I need the money,’ said the angry man. ‘I’m meeting Dex in ten.’
‘We gotta eat, Joe,’ she said.
‘Yeah, and I gotta hit.’ He threw the woman’s arm down on the table with a thud.
‘Joe, please …’
‘F*ck off!’ He pushed his chair back and stood up menacingly.
The woman closed her eyes.
Sissy banged her mug down on the table.
The man stopped in his tracks. He scowled at Sissy, and Sissy stared unblinkingly back.
Thrusting his fists in his pockets, he headed for the door. He looked over his shoulder at the redhead, his eyes like slits. He slammed the door open, bringing the café owner from the kitchen to see what was going on. The man left, lifting his collar to the wind.
The red-haired woman made to go after him.
‘Please don’t,’ said Sissy. ‘Stay and have a coffee with me, or a hot chocolate? It’s delicious.’
The woman slumped into her chair and put her head in her hands.
‘I’ll suffer if I don’t go,’ she said.
Sissy moved next to her and put her hand on the woman’s back. She remembered when she used to wear colourful, flowing clothes. It was time she did again.
‘Please. Tell me where you got your lovely outfit.’
The café owner brought two hot chocolates to the table. ‘On the house,’ he said.
About the author
Lynn is a regular writer for Cafelit. Her first flash fiction collection, The City of Stories is published by Chapeltown Books. See 5-star reviews - #amazonthecityofstorieslynnclement Lynn has stories in The Best of Cafelit 11 12 & 13. and 14
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