Intertwined Lines

Intertwined Lines The Husband

Please leave a comment and I will return the favor, I love getting a new story to read. Also play the song on the side, it sets the mood pretty well.

Intertwined Lines

Chapter 1: The Husband

A rainy morning, with the sky the color of dirty dishwater. The neon light flashing dimly, missing a few letters, but still conveying the message of a warm place and food. The parking lot was speckled with cars, all dull colors, with water slowly rising up the wheels.

Inside the diner, the yellow fluorescent lighting gave the walls and people an aged and tattered look. All the lights worked except the one above the far corner booth, which flickered on and off over the single occupant, a man in his early 30's with short, dark brown hair and brown eyes that held all the sorrow any could possibly hold.

He sat with a bent head, dejectedly facing the far wall, only averting his gaze on the wall to place his order. And his order never changed. It was 2 eggs, over easy, a slice of toast, and a cup of black coffee. After placing his order, he would look back at the wall until his meal came, which he slowly ate. After he finished his meal, he slowly sipped his coffee, and then placed a 10 dollar bill on the table to cover his meal and tip.

Nobody thought much of him, most just thought he was some guy who was looking for a quiet place to eat breakfast. What they didn't know was that his wife had just died and while suffering from deep depression, he had also lost his job. He only had enough savings to last a few more months, and he went to the diner daily to see if anyone would talk to or comfort him. He decided hat he would go to the diner daily and if anyone would talk to him and listen to his problems, he would go out , get a job, and continue his life. But if no one would help him, once he ran out of money he would go home and hang himself.

Every day he walked in and sat at his booth, and every day no one would look into his sorrowful eyes. Occasionally the waitress would smile at him and ask him how the weather was going to be, but even she stopped talking to him and just brought him his "usual."

After 86 days of having no one to help him, he only had enough money to pay for his last meal. He had no money for rent and they told him that he had to be out in a week, but he knew that this didn't matter in the least. He ate his meal just like normal but as he left he did something different than the past 85 days. He left his 10 dollar bill, but he also left a folded handwritten note with a few tear stains on it. He had written this letter the night before for the one person that had even smiled at him since his wife had died. On the note it said,

"86 days ago, my wife, my reason for living was killed in a car crash. since the my life has been a charade, hoping that someone would help me through this pain. While no one helped me, at least you smiled at me. Whether it was out of kindness, or to get a bigger tip, you gave me hope and helped me last as long as I did. But I did tell myself that if I couldn't get help for myself that I would end this because I did not want to put this burden on myself or anyone else any longer. Thank you for giving me a glimmer of hope, and I hope that you help others out of humanity's darkest hour, the hour of apathy."

The waitress found this note on the table, and after reading it, sat down at the booth with tears falling from her face, thinking of all the reasons why she never talked to him. She had always meant to but something always distracted her, such as a boyfriend or financial problems. "He was right" she thought. "He saw what our biggest problem was because he had nothing left to distract him. I feel so close to him but I never even knew his name. I have to go home and think."

The waitress told her boss that she had to go home, she didn't feel well, and seeing the paleness of her face, he didn't argue. She went home and that night she decided that she would never again ignore others' problems. At the very least she would talk with them and try to help.

Soon everyone at the diner knew and talked with each other about their problems. And no one remembered the man that sat in the far booth except for the waitress who carried around his final note.