(Continued)

"I believe I shall find love today," he proclaimed out loud to no one in particular. His waitress, thinking that he might be voicing some premature request, strolled over. She filled the coffee cup that the hostess had put out. She waited patiently for him to repeat himself.

He looked up at her. She was pretty, with short dark hair and a calm expression. The morning sun was rising behind, catching the few lucky stray hairs and making them seem golden. He shifted his attention and his eyes flicked about the fairly crowded restaurant. Then they returned to her face.

She appeared to be about his age, but he hoped she did not frequent many bars. She worked in a "nice" restaurant. At least, he thought it was nice. It was nicest for breakfast, but he would come at any time of the day as long as the sun was in a good position.

She returned his level gaze while he was thinking these things, and perhaps she had some inkling of what was on his mind because she unexpectedly smiled. She was suddenly beautiful. He blinked in surprise and opened his mouth to speak before she noticed, but nothing came out.

She noticed his surprise and laughed. It was the laugh of someone who has been up long before you and is watching you try to wake up. It was pleasant and musical and teasing all at once. He wondered if he had found love already.

"No," he thought, "Love seldom comes when bidden. I doubt I have found it so easily." This assertion satisfied him. This and her laughter put him at ease again. He beamed up at her.

"Just one today?" she asked, still smiling.

"For now," he answered, feeling very clever. "For now."

He made not further attempts at conversation for the rest of his meal. He ate his breakfast heartily. The bacon was mired in the syrup run-off from his pancakes and had no chance of escape. Some of the scrambled eggs managed to leap off the edge of their world. He felt sorry for them, but had little time to properly mourn. He would need his energy today. After he finished eating, he left a tip which was generous, but not enough to be memorable.

* * * * *

He was not tall. His height was not important to him, but he never wanted to give anyone the impression that he was tall. It came up occasionally. Someone would comment on his height, and he would have to firmly explain that he was not tall. It could have annoyed him, but he understood that some did not see things as they were.

Another person who was not tall was Beth. This statement is true, he decided, although it is false. Thinking of Beth made him smile. Her apartment was not far from his. She often voiced complaint on the lack of adequate parking. He felt that her lament was well-founded. Time spent looking for a spot to park was time wasted. He would walk.

He stepped out of his apartment. He left the pea-green door unlocked. Matt might come by. He suspected that Matt had made himself a key by now, but if he happened to forget it he did not want Matt to have to climb through the window.

He hurried down the stairs, resisting the urge to slide down the railing. He had just bought these pants and was unsure whether he had bought them for the purpose of sliding down the railing or not. He guessed not when he was at the bottom of the steps. They were not corduroy, and corduroy was best for sliding.

The End?

I guess so. I found these few pages as I was digging through an old box of stuff. This was written when I was nineteen, and I think it really shows. It was supposed to be a story eventually, but unsurprisingly I never continued it. I don't think I can finish it now.

It is playfully semi-autobiographical. I don't have a lot of the same ideas about things anymore. Overall, I think it's a good thing.

I will miss this character, though. Whoever he really is.

Maybe that's why he didn't make it. He never had a name.

It was probably some tragic scene like in The Never-Ending Story where his world started falling apart piece by piece. The restaurant, the apartment, and the smiling lady crumbling all away.

I'm sure he was prepared for it. After all, he was wearing his end-of-the-world pants.