Friday Fictioneers: Early morning coffee at the roadside diner

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot


 

It’s still early, indigo just crawling up the sky, eating the stars. The diner feels secluded still in its bubble of light, its coffee and pancake fug.

The door opens. Merv Klitschko, greasy trapper hat pulled low, ear flaps creased at his shoulders cos the guy’s got no neck. He’s at the counter, just gets coffee which is weird. Merv’s a man of habit – bacon, eggs, waffles, maple syrup, every morning for the last fifteen years.

I look to see if it’s raining, cos something’s dripping from Merv’s coat, puddling round his boots.

Then I see what that something is.

 


 

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers. Write a story to go with the photo, but in no more than 100 words, please. See here to join in and to read the other, stunning tales.

 

 

 

 

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65 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: Early morning coffee at the roadside diner

    1. Ooh, thank you – really glad you liked him. It’s good to work on these brief descriptions, to distil a sense of character in such a small snapshot. Glad you felt it worked 🙂

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    1. Several people loved that opening – I guess that means it worked, eh? 🙂 It could well be a case of ‘poor Merv’. Whatever has happened I think it might be bad. Thanks for reading Dale 🙂

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    1. Thanks so much. I wonder too. He might have done something awful. Or he might be in shock, having had something awful happen to him. I think the ending depends on which way your mind turns … Thanks again 🙂

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    1. Oh, that’s a great idea! Hadn’t thought of that. If he has, he’s lucky to be alive, I’d say. And what a tale to tell. Thanks so much for reading, Michael

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    1. Thanks Alicia! I think you could take it either way. Is Merv bad or good or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time … Vampires, bear attack, murder mystery, alien invasion, domestic nastiness. Could lead on to almost anything, this. Thanks so much for reading 🙂

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  1. Nice clip Lynn…and I love the photo! Like how the lines kind of merge there in the middle, the symmetry of it. The Ketchup bottle. Bill

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    1. Haha! Nice idea Russell. And why not? Maybe he was searching for something … They used to call that ‘toshing’ in Victorian London. Searching the sewers for hidden treasure … Thanks for reading 🙂

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  2. Another example of your fabulous skill with description. As to what’s dripping from Merv’s coat, I’m going to take the optimistic approach and guess: maple syrup. He’s been “cheating” with another roadside diner. 😉

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