Winter rain

A New Year’s flash fiction

A surprise flash fiction! It’s a bit dark though, but there’s always hope…

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He watched the rain pouring down, washing the dusky streets in waves of grey, until the darkness laid its heavy hands over the dead eyes of the city. Even the cold streetlights gave no light, dark diamonds hiding in the trees, the black broken fingers of their bare branches desperately searching for the light.

“Excuse me, sir! We’re closing,” the waitress said sympathetically.

“Are ya’, now? What time is it?”

“It’s 7:00pm. We were open till 6:00pm today. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Is it? Was I keeping you here? Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. You’re one of our regulars. Oh, no! On the house,” the young waitress smiled warmly.

James gave a shy nod, avoiding looking into her eyes. She must’ve noticed his shabby clothes. He came to this coffee shop every day at dusk hour. Only to survive the coming of the night. The sound of people chatting in hushed voices, the soft jazz in the background, the smell of coffee. Meaningless little things, but they kept James alive. The hour of dusk was the worst. He wouldn’t hesitate to slit his own wrists with his pocketknife if he were alone in his car. After Melany’s death he had no reason to hesitate. Her passing made James’ life fall like a row of dominoes. First, he lost her, then the will to live, then his good job, then the apartment. All he was left with was his car, two bags of clothes and a bit of cash.

“Happy New Year, sir!” The waitress gifted him a smile. He gave her a good look. She could’ve been his daughter, probably barely eighteen. Melany always wanted a little girl. Maybe they should’ve adopted. Or maybe not. While running fertility tests they found out about Mely’s cancer. She fought bravely for years. All for nothing.

“What’s your name?” James asked.

“Hope,” the waitress said grinning.

He gave a quick laugh.

“That’s nice.”

“Right. Okay, I’m afraid I have to close the place now, sir.”

“James.”

“Happy New Year, James.”

He nodded smiling. What a charming kid. Mely would’ve loved her.

James went out of the cosy coffee-scented warmth into the freezing-cold arms of the winter rain. He walked the streets aimlessly, the rain soaked through his clothes and skin, straight into his soul. He was going in circles, avoiding his car. Not much booze left there meant he’ll have nothing to numb his senses with. He’ll do it tonight. James reached into his pocked, wrapping his freezing fingers around the knife. New Year’s Eve was just as good as any other night. Nobody would miss him.

He sat on a bench, observing the Christmas lights of the nearby park mirroring in the huge puddles. The streetlights glittering like gems between the dark branches. So beautiful.

A shrill scream cut the subtle murmuring of the rain. James saw a group of dark silhouettes encircling a woman, pushing her to the ground. He was up and running toward them. James had been in his share of street fights as a young lad. A punk and a rebel couldn’t grow into a man without them. He stabbed one guy, punched another, just to get to the woman. James’ fifty-year-old body lacked the agility and strength of the young punks. He shielded the woman whilst fighting them off, got into a close fight with one, and ended up falling near the woman with his own knife in his gut. The police lights flashed through the rain blue-red-blue-red-blue-red… the punks yelled out curses in a language James didn’t know, before running off into the dark.

“It’s you!” The woman held James’ head up, whilst blood poured out his moth.

“Hope,” he recognized her, “I’m going to Mely, Hope.”

“I was so stupid! I was late for the party, so I took a short cut! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” she kept mumbling and rocking James in her arms.

“It’s okay, Hope… I’m so happy, I’m going to see Mely…” James smiled and let the winter rain close his eyes with its cold hands.

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Thank you for reading! 🩶