Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night. William Blake
via night garden — MYMonkey MIND ( MYMM)
MYMonkey MIND’s posts send my creativity to a place where fictional story clips come alive. Here’s a flash fiction story which developed from the painting above.
On a dark and gray day, she entered my coffee shop refreshing the atmosphere like a spring bouquet. Her brown hair framed her oval face and her marble light brown eyes shined with delight. She didn’t appeared any older than twenty-nine.
With every move she made, strokes of blush, silky rose printed on my black, mourning heart.
She placed her order, medium, coconut milk latte.
The cup I held shook. I cleared my throught, then asked. “Your name?”
With a smile and her right eye-brow raised she said, “Margie.”
As I wrote on the cup, I thought, have I met her before?
With her coffee in hand she made her way to the door, stopped and took a sip. A soft yellow light enter my shop. Her silhouette defined her curves.
A shiver came over me as if wet snow had splashes on my bare chest. There for a second, her frame reminded me of my lat wife, gone for a year.
Margie turned around, tilted her head and said, “I’ll return tomorrow, same time for the same latte order.”
My heart fluttered like a bird inside my chest. Life pump back into my thirty-five year old body as if I was a teen again. A desire see Margie tomorrow caused my hands to sweat. The longing for my high-school sweetheart diminished as the stranger walked away.