Josh

JOSH

Sleep it off is a good plan in theory, but it turns out it’s really difficult to do when your mind is so busy it feels like your brain is about to bleed out of your ears.

I sigh and punch my pillow to try and get it in a more comfortable shape. It doesn’t really work. After a little while, I turn on the TV just so there’s sound that might help drown out the noise in my head.

I nod off at some point, then jerk awake after what feels like no time at all. It’s still dark outside, and I do my best to fall back to sleep, but it’s just not happening, so I get up and stumble into the kitchen nook, where I make myself coffee. Black. Then I go and sit on the edge of the bed and take slow sips.

I’m halfway done with the coffee when I pick up my phone. It’s not even five a.m. yet. Awesome.

An idea jumps into my brain.

Something really stupid.

Not even an idea. More of a whim. And the whim itself is really, really stupid and pointless.

I try to talk myself out of it, but in the end, it’s no use. I sigh, get up, and pour my half-finished coffee in the sink. Then I get dressed.

It’s freezing outside, to the point where the cold is biting. It’s the kind of cold that sinks its teeth into the tips of your fingers and nose and holds on until you can’t feel them anymore. I pull my beanie lower over my ears and blow warm air on my hands while I walk toward the subway station. Once I’m on the train, I stare out the window and wait.

In all honesty, I don’t remember the exact address of the coffee shop, just the station, but after walking around for a little while, I find the place.

And there’s Gabriel behind the counter. His posture perfect and movements precise. He even smiles at some people. Small smiles, sure. But smiles.

I stand on the other side of the street, right across from the little café.

I draw in a big breath and then blow it out.

The fuck am I doing here?

I’m just about to turn and leave when the door of the café opens, and a man walks out. I know that guy. He was the one who was ordering coffee while Gabriel and I got into that argument.

I act without thinking.

“Hey!” I call out and rush across the street. The guy turns around and sends me a suspicious look.

“You talkin’ to me?”

“Yeah. Yes. I’m sorry to bother you but…” I run out of words just like that. I mean, I know what I want to ask, but I’d also like to look like a sane person while doing it.

“Look, I don’t have any cash on me,” the guy says and starts to turn around again.

“No, that’s not what I wanted. Can I ask you a quick question?”

The man assesses me slowly and carefully. “Okay? Go ahead.”

I’ve pretty much concluded by now that I can’t ask what I’m about to ask and sound normal, so what the hell.

“Do you know me?” I ask.

He stares at me with no comprehension. “What do you mean?”

“Do you recognize me? Is my face familiar at all?”

He takes a slow step backward and looks around the dark, early morning street before he turns toward me again. “Should I know you?”

“I served you a cinnamon roll in there the—” I clamp my mouth shut and try to figure out a plausible time frame. “The other day,” I finish.

“I’ve been out of town for the last two weeks.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think I’d know?” He takes another step back.

“But if you took a really good look at me.”

I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m having a mental breakdown. Maybe he’s right.

“Yeah. I gotta go,” he says. “Good luck. Or something.”

He turns on his heel and flees. I watch him until he disappears around the corner. I drop my head back and stare at the sky.

I’ve resorted to harassing strangers on the street.

Fantastic.

What, what, what the ever-loving fuck am I doing?

I take one more look at the café.

Enough is enough.

Time to get back to reality.