Mike sat in the coffee house and sipped a simple latte. He looked out at the busy street, part of it under construction. The bored policeman had his hands in his coat pocket and didn’t seem to be doing anything more than standing there, while the truck behind him took up most of the road space. Someone else was directing traffic, Mike noted, as cars would go by sporadically.
The people traffic was a bit more interesting. Everyone was bundled up against the cold. Mike had not realized that Chicago was actually this cold, so had only brought a light jacket, which he had draped on the back of his chair.
He sat at the chair closest to the window, which was not insulated so no one else wanted to sit there. The cold didn’t bother Mike. Extremes in temperature didn’t bother this body.
He held the tiny paper in his hand and checked the address and time again. He had both right, in fact, was half an hour early. Did that show anticipation? Did that show that he actually never got him out of his mind?
The tiny paper had come from a white dove that had perched outside of Scott’s apartment and pecked at the window. He let the bird in and untied the piece of paper from its leg. He gave the bird some seeds and sent it on its way.
“Feb 21, 8:30 am – 900 N. Michigan, Chicago”
8:45, and he had finished the latte. The coffee shop was still doing a brisk business. He got up to go get another latte and happened to look behind him to see him come into the place.
He was still tall, still had his hair pulled back into a pony tail. The man wore a raggedy trench, a white t-shirt, blue jeans and work boots. His blue eye scanned the place, while his white eye focused on Mike.
Mike smiled. “Ben.”
the man turned to focus on Mike. “Grim,” said Ben, his voice cold.
Mike’s heart broke again into a million little pieces. The smile faltered.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you wanted me.” He held out the piece of paper. “I know this is your handwriting.”
“No,” Ben said, and looked out the window. “Razekiel.”
Mike looked out the window too. Was Ben’s damn demon outside? Had he put this all together?
Ben muttered, “Why does he punish me?” Then he looked at Mike. “I’m sorry. I can’t…”
“You never said goodbye,” said Mike, tears forming in his eyes. “Your demon came to me and told me you chose him over me.”
“Wouldn’t you? Would you want me in a wheelchair, helpless?”
“I loved you!”
The coffee house stopped to stare at the drama. Ben and Mike were in their own worlds, the setting gone.
“I could have done something. Levitation spell. Something!”
“You know I’m immune to magic, right?” Ben focused on some people who were staring at them. They cowered and looked away. “Besides, I like this.”
Mike could only say, “I loved you. I would have married you.”
“I heard you got married.”
“I did, and he’s a wonderful man.”
“Then you should be happy. Happier with him than with me.”
“I would have been happy with you–”
“Do you hear yourself, Grim? Would have been, should have been. It’s over, don’t you understand?”
“Do you have a new lover?”
“And if I did?”
Mike stopped short. The part of him that made him Grim wanted to throttle the man before him. That part wanted to yell and scream at him, to send him up in a glorious bout of flame and cinder. But the other part, the part of him that was Mike, prevailed.
“Are you happy?” Mike asked quietly.
Ben looked up at the ceiling, avoiding Mike’s eyes. “I’m happy,” he said.
“Liar,” Mike snapped. He turned his body toward the door, but his head to Ben. “You’re such a coward.”
Ben now focused his eyes on Mike. The two glared at each other. Ben’s hands were clenched into fists, and Mike was flicking his fingers, readying a spell.
Ben broke first. He stomped up to the door of the coffee house and put his hand on the doorhandle as Mike yelled, “And you still can’t say goodbye!”
Ben opened the door and walked out of his life. Again.
((The person who completely broke your heart is meeting you for coffee in an hour. Describe the next three hours.
Cohen, Bryan (2010-09-23). 1,000 Creative Writing Prompts: Ideas for Blogs, Scripts, Stories and More (p. 35). . Kindle Edition.))