My 500 Words

Day #3 of the #my500words writing challenge. Total words – 909.

Today was very productive. I began a premise for my new book. I may or may not use it but I like the way it’s written. The more mundane my day is at work, the more actual writing I get done. Below is just a sample. Like I said, I may be heading in a different direction but I really like this.

At St. Martin there is a small café; inland off Cypress Street, which many of the tourists are unaware of. I came across it two weeks ago on a bike trip through the village: a charming little charcuterie with window boxes and fresh table linens. I was greeted with the widest smile from the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Her hair was the darkest shade of caramel, with eyes surprisingly blue. The grape colored apron that adorned her graceful waist was stained with powdered sugar, but her smile required no respite from the morning’s sugary offerings. It was given freely; and it soon came to be mine, or that I had hoped for such. When she spoke, her subtly infused French accent quickened my pulse.

Every morning since, I would sit on the terrace overlooking the mysterious Caribbean and drink cup after cup of the worst tasting coffee imaginable: a meager sacrifice to be worthy of her audience. I would have drunk a tripe milkshake for the mere witness of her smile.

The morning prior to yesterday was no different. I paid for my mug of sludge, took my usual seat in the warmth of the morning sun and waited for my daily smile. On this particular day however, I received a bonus for my trouble: a note; in the form of a torn piece of notebook paper fastened to my cup with clear adhesive tape. I grinned childishly, surely it was her phone number, or at the very least the number of a local medicine man that was sure to find success in restoring my taste buds.

When I opened the correspondence, I was shocked; shocked to find nothing that I had hoped for and shocked to find everything that I hadn’t.

Mister, please help me. They’re going to kill me.

I was fully uncertain of what to do with this knowledge. Perhaps this was a situation best suited for the Dirty Harry type.


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