Collection of Short Stories

1. DEBRAH

The cup of cappuccino was filled to the brim and it spilled  over the lid frequently as I ran past formally dressed men and women. What a waste of the six dollars I spent on the coffee, I wondered bitterly.

Fixing the strap of my attaché on my left shoulder and holding the cup tightly with my right, I jumped into the subway silently sending a prayer to the Lord for keeping me safe and on time. I let out a sigh of relief when I miraculously found a vacant seat and called dibs on it without further delay.

Typical Wednesday morning in the city that never sleeps. The corporate foxes were already on their weekly hunt for a better job which ensured a better paycheck which subsequently ensured a better, more than better lifestyle.

The man sitting on my left was typing away furiously on his iPhone like he had to generate electricity through it- the faster you typed, the more power generated. The woman on the seat opposite to mine was painting her nails, in the train? Anyway. She was oblivious to the stares she was receiving from the old greasy fellow beside her. I shivered wondering what thoughts were afloat in his nasty mind.

The noise of the bustling streets, honking of the unnecessarily expensive cars, rustling of people across the streets, people talking on their phones probably making plans for the weekend or discussing the state of the stock market, teenagers listening to cringe-worthy pop songs with such lyrics that it made me shy- all this makes me feel nauseous. Nauseous and alive.

I have spent most of my life here, in this city, ever since my mother abandoned my dad and me. Dad took up a job as a hired cabbie and we spent many years like that till he could finally own a cab. Life was a little better that time, at least better than before. Living in New York when you're not a business tycoon or a Victoria's Secret Angel, or very sure of what you want to do with your pathetic life- life becomes a bit difficult. Especially when your dad drives people around in a rented cab and you bar-tend in a cheap club because they allow you to work there even if you aren't of legal age, you are subjected to a first hand experience of hell. I've experienced hell alright.

There were days and even nights when I felt like jumping off the Empire State Building or into the river, especially when dad came home wasted having spent two months' worth of house rent on cheap beer.

I straighten my tie and the imaginary wrinkles on my dress pants as I reminisce those days. Days got better when dad was run down by his own cab- I had no idea at that time how that was possible.

Later I learnt that it was being driven by its new owner. My dad had sold his cab- sold his only source of income for a trip to the Casino.

I didn't know whether to be glad or relieved- however heartless as it may sound, being remorseful didn't even cross my mind. I had to live and fend for my bread- like I did for many years. The person lying cold in the casket may have been a good man but it wasn't worth any acknowledgement since all that was clouded behind his failure as a father and maybe even as a husband.

The seat beside me dipped indicating that it now had an occupant. The crowd in the subway seemed like a population of algal bloom in a polluted lake- ever increasing and I wearily looked down at my inexpensive watch- thirteen minutes to Heaven.

Heaven Enterprises, that's where I work as a consultant finance advisor and it makes me the happiest that I have been in thirty-one years worth of life.

The train halted abruptly, sending the passengers forward  and there was instant commotion. People complaining and cursing and arguing everywhere- but I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't concentrate or even care because of my fellow occupant who was currently partially in my arms- the tip of her long ponytail brushing my face, her shoulders brushing against my chest and her tender body on mine, struggling to regain her posture. Her hand was kept on my upper thigh, dangerously. She smelt sweet- like cherries and champagne.