Waiting for Her Life to Begin . . . Flash Fiction

          Alyssa sat fidgeting  in New York City's version of a French cafe, sipping lukewarm coffee, while soaking up the atmosphere.  Her long red fingernails made a clicking sound on the rim of her coffee cup.  The nails picked up speed the longer she tapped.  Agitation was about to raise his ugly head.  Once again she was waiting for Chad, her possible Mr. Right, to arrive. 

       The open front cafe was noisy but inviting.  The busy streets of New York  City were forty three steps away from where Alyssa sat.  She knew this to be a fact, because she had counted them--twice in the past hour.  Each time she walked to the curb,  grabbing a quick glance, hoping Chad would be walking down the avenue.  He wasn't.  Horns were blowing, couples trying to hail a cab cursed as the taxi stopped for someone else.  A low rumble of chatter continued from the customers inside the cafe.  Alyssa became nervous sitting in a strange place waiting for a young man, she was barely knew,  to arrive for their third date. . .  if he showed up.  Alyssa tried to dodge the uncomfortable feeling he was not joining her tonight.  She called his cell phone twice.  Once to confirm she had the right address and the second time to see if he was stuck at the office or in traffic.  He did not answer or return her messages.  Something was wrong.  She wished she knew if she should be mad or worried because right now she was both.  There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

    The waiter approached her table for the second time, asking if she was ready to order or did she want to wait a few more minutes.  Alyssa said, "I'll have another cup of coffee and I will order a Jack and Coke for my friend, who will be here soon."  The waiter smiled saying, "I will be back with your orders."

    Alyssa scanned the cafe again.  The decor appeared to be a knock off version of the old outdoor French cafes of years past,  with wrought iron chairs and tables.  Three walls were painted a Tuscan sun color.  The middle wall had a fresco painted from the floor to the ceiling. The lush greenery in the scene surrounded a stone colored water fountain. A crack in the wall reach from the floor to the middle of the fountain.  The crack added a touch of reality to the painting.  Glancing at her watch, she noticed five minutes had passed.  Calling Chad was no longer an option.  She would return to her apartment alone before she dialed his number again.

     After the waiter brought her a coffee and mixed drink for Chad, her imagination began to come to the forefront of her mind's eye, taking over as usual when stress began to increase in her life.  With an easy rhythm, Alyssa was drawn into the lives of the other customers in the cafe.

     To her right sat an elderly couple eating their meal in a comfortable silence.  After years and years of conversation they enjoyed their meal and their own thoughts. . . together yet alone.  Across from Alyssa sat the most beautiful black woman she had ever seen.  Her ebony skin glistened in a ocean blue silk dress. Hooped silver earrings were tangled in a long mass of black curls.  When she spoke her voice was rich with a thick Caribbean accent.  The woman had completely captivated her dinner partner. They were a beautiful couple of the same sex, enjoying a night out on the town.  

     A young couple, with their three year old daughter,sat enjoying ice cream floats.  They laughed and talked making plans for the future while enjoying the present.  People came and went several times before Alyssa decided to call it a night.  She glanced around the room looking for her waiter.  Smiling, he brought her the check.  Alyssa paid the bill and left a tip. She stood up and took a long swig of Chad's watered down drink.  Then she turned to walk down the avenue.

     Tonight left a sour taste in her stomach.  She was twenty one and this would not be the last time she felt the acidic taste of hurt.  She looked around the cafe one last time, thinking 'any of these people could be a glimpse of my life one day.  Who knows?'  Alyssa turned and slowly left the  cafe.  She had no clue what life had in store for her but, one thing she knew for sure. . . it would be better than tonight.


      The waiter watched the young woman walk away.  He felt a bit of sadness and relief  as he picked up his cell phone and called his brother. On the second ring, Chad answered. " She is gone", said the waiter as he hung up the phone.  Chad smiled and began to get dressed for a night on the town. 'Alyssa did not know how lucky she was', thought Chad,  as he slipped on his shoes. He looked in the mirror one last time. Then he picked up his switchblade knife, smiled at his reflection and walked out the door.  Chad was ready to party his way.

    

          

         

Thank You All for Reading my Blog...

   In 2010 I began writing a blog.  I wasn't sure where this adventure would take me or how long I would write. I figured I would write until the need inside me was filled.  I  had a lot on my mind and in my heart.  I needed to talk to someone I did not see every day about feelings, emotions and memories that ran around inside my mind...so I began to write our story.

    My mother died in 2009 from Alzheimer's.  It was a long, slow death that took every thought, emotion and memory this lovely woman called her own.  I wanted to write stories about our family, in case  the 50%  chance of Alzheimer's  finds me and  moves in to stay.  If it comes true, our stories will live on. If it does not come true, everyone will have my version of our lives.  I know for a fact, Tommy and I usually remember things differently...mine will be in black and white.

    I needed for  my children and grandchildren and their children to have a book of stories about their incredible, loving, funny, spiritual and creative relatives. I want the little things that make up the majority of a person's life shared. The big events most people remember but the little everyday stories, those are the ones that get lost. I want our descendants to know us.  The very people whose blood flows through their veins and whose genes reside inside them are home base for my stories.

   My first year of writing consisted of eight blogs.  As of today, I have written a total of 384 blogs.  I have had fun sharing our lives, and enjoyed people enjoying my writing.  My followers are found all over the world and I love that feeling. Originally I traded postcards, for about three years, with friends in many foreign countries. A good portion of my postcard friends still share my life through my blog.  Some of us talk daily. These people are part of my' tribe', as I call our friendship.  We will probably never meet in this lifetime but we are friends, good friends, for sure.

    Later I joined several on line writing groups. I began to follow my favorite authors on Facebook. I talked to them and they talked back to me!  Unbelievable!  A learning experience was occurring. Soon I discovered Pinterest  and a whole new writing venue opened up for me. I enjoyed reading and following many writing blogs on Pinterest. To my delight and dismay,  people started following me on Pinterest. It has become  another good, unexpected experience.

    In hindsight, my middle daughter, Tami  gave me encouragement on writing and actually set up my first blog for me.  She told me to set a goal for the number of  readers I would like to reach.  I did that and the goal was 500.  That goal was reached  in a about six weeks.  I began to write more and felt comfortable sharing my life on line.  Soon I set the goal for 2,000 and reached it.  I was shocked---extremely shocked and once again delighted.  I felt like a gun totting, slight of hand gambler, as I raised the stakes with my keyboard, on my favorite hobby. I jotted down 10,000.  I thought if I reached that goal,  I would be out of stories and quit writing.  I was so wrong with that mindset.  The more I wrote,  the more I remembered,  the more I wanted to write.  My every day life began to resemble an "I Love Lucy" episode.  Retiring and still  married happily to my husband, Tommy Carter, yields more stories than I will ever be able to describe.  Strange things often  happen to us.  We call it normal, most people would disagree.

   I've had a few bumps in the road. Every time I wrote a truthful but hard core blog on Obama, I received a virus.  I made a few people fighting mad.  So be it, thank God for freedom of speech... and for people who can fix my computer when I exercise that freedom of speech.

   I began writing short stories about three years ago. Flash Fiction is one of my new favorite writing exercises.  I think most people prefer novels to short stories but I have to admit these stories have a place in my heart. They will be included in a book some day.  I also have a novel started. It is more background, checking facts and weeding out what works and what doesn't.  I do believe it is a book that wants to be written and it also would  enjoy being read  some day. I know this for a fact,  because my muse is working in overdrive for the moment.  It is a big challenge for me...not sure how it will play out.  The adventure should be a huge learning experience for me.

   The other day I checked my stats and I had over 30,000 readers.  I felt like I had won the jackpot of all jackpots.  For most writers this is a smidge of followers...for me it is a landslide I never imagined.

   I want to thank every person who has taken the time to read my blog, share my life and adventures. You all are the best and make writing special for me. I enjoy your feed back and comments.  As I close,  I raise my cup of coffee to each and everyone of you.  Thank you for making my retirement more fun than I ever imagined. Thank you for being a part of my life. ...you all matter to me.