Tuesday 12 April 2016

Winter Coats.

This story was inspired by this picture
Shadows lengthened across the empty square. The sun had been baking the cobblestones all day, sending people scattering for shelter from its nuclear beams. Blinds and shutters in the bedrooms high up were firmly shut, keeping the shade in and the heat at bay. Behind them sweaty bodies too hot for passion lay lifeless on beds. Exhausted figures were slumped in chairs watching telenovelas, cats and dogs whimpered in the heat.  A lone waiter hugged his tin tray as he surveyed the empty metal tables that were hot enough to fry an egg on. The waiter was relieved there was no one to serve, but worried about how his café would survive the dearth of customers.

Dressed for winter in the middle of summer, the couple who meandered across the cobbles would have stood out if the square had been humming with people. Yet on this deserted square, in their heavy coats and hats, they went unnoticed.  They held hands as they strolled, their shadows stretching out lazily behind them. Each step felt measured; straight backs, sure feet, proud bodies.
Everything that would be right about the scene in winter was wrong now. Alarm bells should have rung. But the waiter was more interested in his fingernails and the rest of the square was in lockdown. So no one was watching events unfold. There was no one was there to sound the alarm.
The explosion brought life back to the steamy square. It bounced off the walls of like a pin ball. A flock of pigeons took noisily to the air, dogs barked, kids screamed and alarms wailed.
Blood splattered cobblestones, glass from smashed windows littered amongst it. The waiter wiped blood from his brow not realising the tin tray had save his life. Flesh fried on the heated tables, offal sizzled on the manhole cover, the smell of death spreading to all four corners and beyond. A hat rolled along and came to rest at the foot of a lamppost, a handbag was strewn on the ground, its content warp from the heat.  Blinds flew open, and shutters slammed as people lazily sprung to life. Voices tried to make sense of the scene.   
Two had become one, or two had become none. 

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