Although I rarely go out in the human world I will admit that it’s quite a beautiful place. However in it’s beauty there is something hideous. This thing is called hate. For a long time a person like me was considered bad, for no reason other than the gender of the person I love. But it’s a new world, a thousands of years later, and in most places it no longer matters. And this- this change of heart in the people, is why I don’t kill as often anymore. However I do get bored. Oh, so bored. It’s boring to sit back and watch the time drag on. But, nevertheless, like a lion stalking its prey, I wait. What exactly do I wait for? I wait for somebody to wander in to my small beaten down donut shop on the corner in Downpour street in southern England.
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She ordered a chocolate frosted chocolate donut, along with a hot coffee, with three sugars and two creams. She sat down by a window. She kept one hand on the coffee cup’s handle and never set down the donut, until it was gone. Eventually she left. I let her leave. Why? I have no idea. But she came back the next day at the same time, with the same order. And she came back everyday. Sometimes she’d get a muffin, or a different kind of donut. And everyday she went back home. Everyday I let her go. At some point we started to talk. Just about random things- nothing personal, that was- until I asked about her sunglasses.
“Why do you always wear sunglasses?” I had no clue.
“You couldn’t tell by the cane? I’m blind.”
“Oh- okay. Were you born blind or-”
“No. Uh… when I was seven my parents and I got into a car crash because my dad was drunk driving- and I hit my head. I was the only one who lived.”
“My parents are gone too. But they…” I can’t tell her about the murder, “they died of old age- nothing too tragic.”
“All death is tragic, Em. It’s hard to live without any guidance.”
“Anyways-how old are you now? I don’t think I asked before.”
“25, what about you?”
Several million but I can’t say that. “26” I reply. I’d say I look about that age. “What do you do now? Like- what’s your
She ordered a chocolate frosted chocolate donut, along with a hot coffee, with three sugars and two creams. She sat down by a window. She kept one hand on the coffee cup’s handle and never set down the donut, until it was gone. Eventually she left. I let her leave. Why? I have no idea. But she came back the next day at the same time, with the same order. And she came back everyday. Sometimes she’d get a muffin, or a different kind of donut. And everyday she went back home. Everyday I let her go. At some point we started to talk. Just about random things- nothing personal, that was- until I asked about her sunglasses.
“Why do you always wear sunglasses?” I had no clue.
“You couldn’t tell by the cane? I’m blind.”
“Oh- okay. Were you born blind or-”
“No. Uh… when I was seven my parents and I got into a car crash because my dad was drunk driving- and I hit my head. I was the only one who lived.”
“My parents are gone too. But they…” I can’t tell her about the murder, “they died of old age- nothing too tragic.”
“All death is tragic, Em. It’s hard to live without any guidance.”
“Anyways-how old are you now? I don’t think I asked before.”
“25, what about you?”
Several million but I can’t say that. “26” I reply. I’d say I look about that age. “What do you do now? Like- what’s your