Encephalon: Emergent

Chapter 1

Manhattan slept in near darkness. Above the city, a hazy canopy drew back across the sky and revealed a blanket of stars not usually visible. There was an odd calm as people went about their business walking past makeshift fires on street corners, carrying lamps, flashlights or the glow of their phones ahead of them as they took to the balmy streets. They slowed down and looked up as they walked along the sidewalk. They smiled at strangers and the young kids playing hide and seek in the shadows. They enjoyed the respite from the daily toil and many wished the darkness would last for hours or days longer, but it was not to be. Grid by grid, from the Lower East Side to the Upper West, the power flickered and patched back on.

Across the water, Elena stared out from the darkness of her window at the island city relight. Eight years had passed, but the memory had seared itself upon her brain. She could still smell his breath, still feel the scrape of his stubble against her skin. She felt it deep in the pit of her stomach. She tried to snap herself out of it, but the memories took hold, his eyes glaring over her, robbing her of the self she had worked so hard to achieve. She wrapped her arms round her shoulders and thought if some odd sense of justice had been perpetrated against her. Her future taken. Did she fly too close to the sun? She could have had some Brooklyn boy, someone decent and kind who knew where she came from, what she had been through. There would have been little ambition, but there would have been love. She could have raised the family she never had.

Her best friend, Missy, came to her side with two large subs and could almost read her mind. "You alright, hun?" Elena nodded and stared back out the window. Missy grunted at the sight, "Manhattan, always Manhattan. What, ain't Brooklyn a part of New York?" It made Elena smile; she felt a warm glow whenever Missy was near. They had known each other since they were six, sisters in arms, and despite being as different as night and day, Missy had always been there for her. A lot more than could be said for anyone else.

She looked at the sub sandwiches, "Missy, the coleslaw?" They turned back to the cafe lit today only by candles and a couple of old, kerosene lamps.

"Come on, Elena, ain't no one gonna complain."

She pointed to the silent refrigerator, "But today it's gonna go to waste."

"They're gettin' it free!"

"Doesn't mean we can't have the best service, have them coming back for more. Ain't that right, Mr. Engels?"

At a table nearby, a sweet old man, one of their regulars with a hat and glasses permanently attached, looked up, his head drooped so low it was a wonder it did not fall off; he was like an old tortoise, slowly peering out from his crinkly, old shell, "Y'say what, Elena?"

She smiled, "I said, we gotta have the best service and keep you coming back for more. Here, let me get that for you." She filled up his coffee from a pot nearby, his face lighting up at the attention.

Missy sighed exaggeratedly, "Okay, Miss sanctimonious Sanchez."

Elena wrapped her arm round her friend and they turned back towards the counter while behind her an extremely good-looking, well-dressed man in his early thirties approached the door.

Missy spotted him and pulled Elena out of view as he entered. "Don't look, he's here again." Of course Elena looked; even Mr. Engels looked up from under the brim of his old fedora. "Act natural, act natural."

Elena flushed crimson as the man approached the counter; he had been coming in at the same time every day for a week.

He smiled charmingly, "Hi."

"Evening, sir," Elena greeted him nervously, immediately cursing herself for being so formal. "Black Americano, right?"

He nodded thankfully and she set about making the coffee from over a makeshift camper stove, "Nice to see you open despite the blackout."