Mediocre- CTH

One

He made his way to the little coffee shop around the corner. He was a regular.

Calum Thomas Hood wasn't one to change his routine, it made him feel safe. He would sit at the same spot. The seat near the window where the light would shine in, making his dull brown eyes honey for a mere second. He wouldn't even ask the waiter for a menu. He knew just what to order, it was the same thing always of course. A black coffee.

No sugar. No cream. If he was feeling edgy, he would get a croissant as well. But today he lacked the dollar and fifty cents to buy the pastry. He'd usually read a book or scribbled possible lyrics onto a napkin. Instead, he looked outside.

He took everything in. He felt everything so deeply. And smiled at the sun, the sun didn't smile back. Calum Thomas Hood often worried that he would lose his softness for there was so much in this world that filled him with rage.

His coffee arrived and he thanked the lady and began to blow on it. He watched the steam go up and then disappear into nothing. He waited patiently for his coffee to cool down, he didn't want to burn his tongue and when it did, he drank it ever so slowly.

Calum loved the little moments like these. They made up most of his life.

"Goodbye" He waved at the employees as he left the money on the table under the empty mug of coffee. He walked home, Calum lived in a small town in Australia. It was the same one he was born in and raised in, everyone knew everyone and their mothers. Privacy didn't exist.

Too often Calum would think of packing his things into a suitcase and leaving the country and to never turn back. He longed for a place where nobody knew his name. He liked the idea of living in a city- any city, especially a strange one. Calum Thomas Hood was fascinated by the thought. And for the first time in his twenty years of age, he thought of actually doing something he wanted.

What if I pack my bags right now? Would mother be disappointed? To hell with my mother! That's rude Calum, be more respectful. And Calum would laugh at him fighting with himself.

His plump lips curved into a smile as he began to run across the street, he kicked rocks. The neighbors stared as his hair jumped with every fast step. And when he arrived at his house, he threw open the door of his room and threw things into a carry on bag.

He felt the adrenaline pumping in his veins, and his heart beating.