A cup of Hugo-tea

She looks at her watch, not for the first time in the past ten seconds, and takes another sip of her tea, which she finished what seems am eternity ago, but can’t be more than five minutes. Or can it? Five more minutes. Maybe he thought it was at nine, not eight. Maybe it was at nine, and she was mistaken. Five more minutes, maybe ten. Then she would give up. On tonight, on him and on online dating. This was not the first time she was checking her watch every other second, and take sips from empty cups.
Again, her eyes scan the cafe.
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Now that I’m in town, anyway – a micro story

“Now that I’m in town, anyway..” she said. And she meant it. She was in town, so it shouldn’t be too much too ask for her to get her mother that shirt which was on sale. Just so as it never was too much too ask. Not when it was up to her. She loved helping people out, especially her mother. So, now that she was in town, she would take that tram, then a bus, and then walk for about half an hour to get to the store where this shirt her mother needed was on sale. Of course she would. She always did. As said, she loved helping people. Whenever they called her, she would answer, and say things like “now that I’m in town, anyway…”. It was on the other side of the phone, where the evil happened. Because the people around her, especially her mother, knew how much she loved to help. In stead of going to get a shirt on sale themselves, they’d wait until they knew she was in town. Or going in that general direction. Then they’d call her, and mention it to her. Not simply ask her. Just mention that they had seen something they’d like to have from a store in town. And she would fall for it, and go out of her way to get it. Just like today. The shirt her mother had seen in one of those door-to-door magazines last week was probably sold out. But she had an appointment at the clinic today, for her chronic back pain. The clinic was in town, or more precise, within the city limits, on the outskirts. But, well, it was in the city, wasn’t it.

The tram was running a bit late, so she almost missed the bus. It was already at the stop, and she was a couple of meters away. She started running, waving a bit. She did not want to wait 20 minutes. Her back hurted, more than it usually did. In the clinic they had run some tests. They were actually surprised that there was no-one with her, to bring her home. Her back hunted so much, she couldn’t really turn her head.

As she was running for the bus, she never saw the truck coming up behind her. She crossed the street. The truck driver didn’t have a chance. It was too late to brake.

Light reading on a Sunday

A couple of years ago, right before we moved into the second millennium, I wrote my first short story and even got it published. I entered it in a contest in which the 100 winners would see their stories published in a book called ‘Het boek aller tijden’ – which is Dutch for ‘The Book of All Times’. Even though I liked writing the short story, it took me over 10 years to come up with the second story. So, if you’re in for a little light reading on a Sunday, here’s the Legend of Gazibe of Lyndas: