Thursday 3 November 2016

The Twin

For audio click here 
Nathan was just about to take a sip of the disgusting filter coffee when he saw his own reflection in the thin layer of scum that had formed on the top of the brew. He threw the coffee across the bar surprising the bored looking waitress. 
“You okay honey,” she said in her fake American accent. “Let me refill that for you.”
“Leave it!” Nathan barked. “Just leave it.” He put his head in his hands and sat stock still. 
He could hear the waitress mopping up spilt coffee. He’d have liked another one, but he didn’t want to risk seeing his lousy, lonely good for nothing face again. He heard the sound of crockery and then the glug of the coffee pot pouring new liquid into his cup. She was a doll that waitress. 
“Thanks,” he said through his hands. 
The coffee would cost a pound, that would leave him with fifty-three pence in his pocket. Fifty-three lousy pence. It should have been five-thousand pounds, but that damned bank clerk had decided to play Superwoman and had refused to hand over the cash. He’d held the gun right up in her face and threatened to pull the trigger, but she called his bluff and he’d only had a seven high. He’d left the bank with his tail between his legs and his pockets empty. He’d walked for miles and miles expecting to get picked up any moment by the police, at least he’d get a hot meal. But the police never came. So he was drinking bottomless filter coffee in a faux American diner that sat on the cliff looking out to sea. 
“Bollocks,” he said making the bored waitress jump for the second time. He’d made a decision. He got out his phone and dialled the police. He’d hand himself in.  
Nathan took a swig off his lukewarm coffee making sure he didn’t look into the cup. At the same time, the man opposite him took a swig of his coffee. Nathan felt like he was staring into a mirror. Both men’s mouths dropped at the same time. They both rested their cups back on the saucers and laid their hand on the counter like a snooker player’s rest. 
“Mark?”
“Nathan?”
They said together. 
Nathan got up and went around to the other side of the bar. 
“What on earth brings you here?” They said at the same time.
Brotherly love, twinerly love, has a strange effect. At first, Nathan felt nothing but affection, love, longing to be back in the womb with his twin. But soon reality started to drip feed into his mind. Mark was not only his identical twin but also the bastard who stole his girl. He hated that git. 
They slapped backs and chatted for a while; Nathan hiding the contempt he felt for his double-crossing wanker of an identical twin brother. 
“Well,” Mark said. “I’d best be off. I’ll just nip to the loo.” He slid off the bar stool and headed to the door marked John Doe. 
Nathan smiled and slipped on his brother’s jacket, picked up his brother’s briefcase and headed for the door. Gently tossing his brother’s car keys in the air as he walked. It wouldn’t take him long to find the car, there was only one in the car park. 
As he was driving out, a police car turned in. Nathan could imagine the scene. His startled brother being confronted by the cop. 
“Excuse me, sir, a man fitting your description attempted a bank robbery today.” 
He smiled, by the time his brother had talked his way out of it. Nathan would have sold the bastard’s car and emptied his bank of cash. It was turning into the perfect day.  Please if you enjoy these stories share them with friends, family, book agents, etc.. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram :-) Thank you.  


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