| Writing Fiction posted November 8, 2016 |
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...a hard decision; the Right decision
The Country Squire Cafe
by Mustang Patty
The garish neon sign flashed 'Country Squire,' and he watched the blinking flash until it left traces of light behind his eyelids. He picked at the pie he'd ordered, and slowly sipped the strongly brewed coffee. He wasn't hungry for food, but it would have to do for now. He was bone tired, and he rolled his head making all the tendons in his neck crackle. The action should have been painful, but instead, it felt good to feel something.
Gary knew tomorrow would be a long day. But as he looked up at the big round clock on the wall, he realized tomorrow was already here. It seemed that days were drifting one into the next, and he knew the reason in the darkest recesses of his heart.
He felt the need for sleep trying to push through. But then, just like his appetite, the feeling flitted away. Gary caught the eye of the waitress and motioned for more coffee. The pretty and pert blonde hurried over and gave him her most winning smile. He wanted to tell her that it was wasted on him. He was as gay as a man could be.
Not to be rude, he made small talk with her. It was just the two of them in the deserted cafe. She introduced herself as Mary, and his thoughts went to another woman, named Mary, in another state. His mother, one of his best friends, lived in New Mexico. He knew he needed to call her, and hearing her voice would be soothing, but he continued to avoid talking to her. He knew she only wanted to know one thing right now, and he wasn't sure he could give that to her.
According to the app on his phone, her current weather was as warm as Minneapolis was cold. Just another reminder they were worlds apart. He was glad his Mom was in a warm place. Her arthritis had recently started to bother her more and more, and she couldn't get around as well as she once did. It probably would have been nice for her to have someone around to help her with things. He wasn't the right person though. He didn't have anything to offer other than pain.
The old-fashioned diner was comforting in its simplicity. The comforting smell of the coffee brewing and the sizzling griddle was pleasant, and Gary closed his eyes and tried to relax. Country music drifted to his ears from the overhead speakers. The song, 'Momma tried,' started to play.
As he felt the lump in his throat growing and tears threatening to spill, he took a deep breath and told himself to 'man up.' Thinking about his Mom wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he banished those thoughts. But they were quickly replaced by a dark thought. His need was gnawing at his gut. It was time to get another fix. A dark and powerful image began to run through his brain. He knew the meth would chase away all these feelings. It was the best thing about the drugs; he didn't have to deal with the thoughts and feelings.
The hungry demon continued to raise its ugly head. Back, in the beginning, he only used to help him relax. Then, he used to calm the intense feelings he experienced along with the anxiety. Eventually, he used because it was too easy not to.
He hated himself for getting hooked. He knew his mother was incredibly disappointed. She was more appalled that he supported himself by selling the stuff. The truth was, he grew more disgusted with himself each day. For over three years he chased the dragon. During that same time, he had lost everything. The drug cost several relationships and even more jobs. He lost his home, countless friends, and his self-respect. He didn't want to believe it could cost him his mother. She wouldn't give up; she couldn't give up on him. Mothers are forever. Weren't they?
It was time. In fact, it was past time. Gary decided to get clean. The other day he saw a sign at the local shelter about a program. He could do it. No doubt, it would be hard. He hated pain and needles, but he hated disappointing his mother even more.
Going through withdrawal could take days, but he would do it. Detoxing was the easy part. Learning to deal with the feelings he'd been running from was the hard part. But, it was past time to change his life. He really could do it. He just needed to believe in himself and the process.
The other night, on a whim, he wrote that number down. He knew, even then, the time was coming. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, and fumbling for the piece of paper in his jeans, he steadied himself to make the call. He left some money on the counter to pay his bill and made himself stand on shaky legs.
He stepped outside into the parking lot, looking for a little privacy. Using his thumb, he pressed the buttons to unlock his phone, and the time popped up on the screen. It was 4:00 am on a dark Sunday morning. Saying the first prayer he'd uttered in a long time, he entered the number onto the keypad. After several rings, a friendly voice answered.
At The Diner writing prompt entry
The garish neon sign flashed 'Country Squire,' and he watched the blinking flash until it left traces of light behind his eyelids. He picked at the pie he'd ordered, and slowly sipped the strongly brewed coffee. He wasn't hungry for food, but it would have to do for now. He was bone tired, and he rolled his head making all the tendons in his neck crackle. The action should have been painful, but instead, it felt good to feel something.
Gary knew tomorrow would be a long day. But as he looked up at the big round clock on the wall, he realized tomorrow was already here. It seemed that days were drifting one into the next, and he knew the reason in the darkest recesses of his heart.
He felt the need for sleep trying to push through. But then, just like his appetite, the feeling flitted away. Gary caught the eye of the waitress and motioned for more coffee. The pretty and pert blonde hurried over and gave him her most winning smile. He wanted to tell her that it was wasted on him. He was as gay as a man could be.
Not to be rude, he made small talk with her. It was just the two of them in the deserted cafe. She introduced herself as Mary, and his thoughts went to another woman, named Mary, in another state. His mother, one of his best friends, lived in New Mexico. He knew he needed to call her, and hearing her voice would be soothing, but he continued to avoid talking to her. He knew she only wanted to know one thing right now, and he wasn't sure he could give that to her.
According to the app on his phone, her current weather was as warm as Minneapolis was cold. Just another reminder they were worlds apart. He was glad his Mom was in a warm place. Her arthritis had recently started to bother her more and more, and she couldn't get around as well as she once did. It probably would have been nice for her to have someone around to help her with things. He wasn't the right person though. He didn't have anything to offer other than pain.
The old-fashioned diner was comforting in its simplicity. The comforting smell of the coffee brewing and the sizzling griddle was pleasant, and Gary closed his eyes and tried to relax. Country music drifted to his ears from the overhead speakers. The song, 'Momma tried,' started to play.
As he felt the lump in his throat growing and tears threatening to spill, he took a deep breath and told himself to 'man up.' Thinking about his Mom wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he banished those thoughts. But they were quickly replaced by a dark thought. His need was gnawing at his gut. It was time to get another fix. A dark and powerful image began to run through his brain. He knew the meth would chase away all these feelings. It was the best thing about the drugs; he didn't have to deal with the thoughts and feelings.
The hungry demon continued to raise its ugly head. Back, in the beginning, he only used to help him relax. Then, he used to calm the intense feelings he experienced along with the anxiety. Eventually, he used because it was too easy not to.
He hated himself for getting hooked. He knew his mother was incredibly disappointed. She was more appalled that he supported himself by selling the stuff. The truth was, he grew more disgusted with himself each day. For over three years he chased the dragon. During that same time, he had lost everything. The drug cost several relationships and even more jobs. He lost his home, countless friends, and his self-respect. He didn't want to believe it could cost him his mother. She wouldn't give up; she couldn't give up on him. Mothers are forever. Weren't they?
It was time. In fact, it was past time. Gary decided to get clean. The other day he saw a sign at the local shelter about a program. He could do it. No doubt, it would be hard. He hated pain and needles, but he hated disappointing his mother even more.
Going through withdrawal could take days, but he would do it. Detoxing was the easy part. Learning to deal with the feelings he'd been running from was the hard part. But, it was past time to change his life. He really could do it. He just needed to believe in himself and the process.
The other night, on a whim, he wrote that number down. He knew, even then, the time was coming. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, and fumbling for the piece of paper in his jeans, he steadied himself to make the call. He left some money on the counter to pay his bill and made himself stand on shaky legs.
He stepped outside into the parking lot, looking for a little privacy. Using his thumb, he pressed the buttons to unlock his phone, and the time popped up on the screen. It was 4:00 am on a dark Sunday morning. Saying the first prayer he'd uttered in a long time, he entered the number onto the keypad. After several rings, a friendly voice answered.
Gary knew tomorrow would be a long day. But as he looked up at the big round clock on the wall, he realized tomorrow was already here. It seemed that days were drifting one into the next, and he knew the reason in the darkest recesses of his heart.
He felt the need for sleep trying to push through. But then, just like his appetite, the feeling flitted away. Gary caught the eye of the waitress and motioned for more coffee. The pretty and pert blonde hurried over and gave him her most winning smile. He wanted to tell her that it was wasted on him. He was as gay as a man could be.
Not to be rude, he made small talk with her. It was just the two of them in the deserted cafe. She introduced herself as Mary, and his thoughts went to another woman, named Mary, in another state. His mother, one of his best friends, lived in New Mexico. He knew he needed to call her, and hearing her voice would be soothing, but he continued to avoid talking to her. He knew she only wanted to know one thing right now, and he wasn't sure he could give that to her.
According to the app on his phone, her current weather was as warm as Minneapolis was cold. Just another reminder they were worlds apart. He was glad his Mom was in a warm place. Her arthritis had recently started to bother her more and more, and she couldn't get around as well as she once did. It probably would have been nice for her to have someone around to help her with things. He wasn't the right person though. He didn't have anything to offer other than pain.
The old-fashioned diner was comforting in its simplicity. The comforting smell of the coffee brewing and the sizzling griddle was pleasant, and Gary closed his eyes and tried to relax. Country music drifted to his ears from the overhead speakers. The song, 'Momma tried,' started to play.
As he felt the lump in his throat growing and tears threatening to spill, he took a deep breath and told himself to 'man up.' Thinking about his Mom wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he banished those thoughts. But they were quickly replaced by a dark thought. His need was gnawing at his gut. It was time to get another fix. A dark and powerful image began to run through his brain. He knew the meth would chase away all these feelings. It was the best thing about the drugs; he didn't have to deal with the thoughts and feelings.
The hungry demon continued to raise its ugly head. Back, in the beginning, he only used to help him relax. Then, he used to calm the intense feelings he experienced along with the anxiety. Eventually, he used because it was too easy not to.
He hated himself for getting hooked. He knew his mother was incredibly disappointed. She was more appalled that he supported himself by selling the stuff. The truth was, he grew more disgusted with himself each day. For over three years he chased the dragon. During that same time, he had lost everything. The drug cost several relationships and even more jobs. He lost his home, countless friends, and his self-respect. He didn't want to believe it could cost him his mother. She wouldn't give up; she couldn't give up on him. Mothers are forever. Weren't they?
It was time. In fact, it was past time. Gary decided to get clean. The other day he saw a sign at the local shelter about a program. He could do it. No doubt, it would be hard. He hated pain and needles, but he hated disappointing his mother even more.
Going through withdrawal could take days, but he would do it. Detoxing was the easy part. Learning to deal with the feelings he'd been running from was the hard part. But, it was past time to change his life. He really could do it. He just needed to believe in himself and the process.
The other night, on a whim, he wrote that number down. He knew, even then, the time was coming. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, and fumbling for the piece of paper in his jeans, he steadied himself to make the call. He left some money on the counter to pay his bill and made himself stand on shaky legs.
He stepped outside into the parking lot, looking for a little privacy. Using his thumb, he pressed the buttons to unlock his phone, and the time popped up on the screen. It was 4:00 am on a dark Sunday morning. Saying the first prayer he'd uttered in a long time, he entered the number onto the keypad. After several rings, a friendly voice answered.
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Writing Prompt Write a story about something that takes place in a diner at 4 in the morning. |
 Recognized |
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I originally posted this story in November of 2016. It was my silent prayer for my son to wise up and get himself into treatment. Well, it's two years later and he's still living on the streets of Minneapolis.
Neon cafe sign from Pinterest
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and 2 member cents. Neon cafe sign from Pinterest
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