| Viewing Single Post From: The Prophecy | |
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| DJAtomika | October 23 2008, 08:04 AM |
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Jason rose from where he'd fell on the street. He'd been walking down to the local coffee shop, intending to meet his brother for an afternoon of talk and hot coffee to while away the time. He'd seen his brother wave to him from the coffee shop. He had heard him calling, he had seen him waving, he had also seen his dad walking out of the interior of the shop, carrying a tray of hot coffee and buns. After that, he felt himself falling forward and everything went black the moment he hit his forehead on the pavement. When he woke up, it was as if from a good night's sleep. Everything on him was still there. His phone, his MP3, the bag on his back containing some books and guitar tabulature that he was planning to discuss with his impromptu school band later. His wallet, clothes, everything. He hadn't been hit on the back of the head and mugged. He just plain passed out. The strange thing was, after he'd regained control of his senses somewhat, he looked up and everyone had vanished. The coffee shop was empty, the roads were empty, even the homeless guy he'd made friends with on the corner was gone. A small gust of wind blew a page from the early morning paper down the street, catching itself on the wiper of a car. Jason, still in a relative daze, walked over to the empty coffee shop. The tray of coffee that his dad(?) was carrying was now on the table, the cups still three-quarters full of hot, steaming coffee. His brother's book, open at the page he was reading, lay on the table. Still quite unsure over what was happening, he picked a cup and took it with him, sipping at the hot brew, marvelling at the way it warmed his body on the way down his gullet. As he lifted the mug to his mouth for another sip, he noticed the temperature around his mouth dropping, the mug getting cold in his hand, the breath he expelled through his nose visible in the aerly morning light. He brought the cup back down and peered inside. The coffee had frozen solid. A chill passed through him and he dropped the mug, the porcelain shattering and releasing the cylindrical block of frozen coffee, sending it rolling off the curb and into the gutter. He flipped open his phone and scrolled through his call list. Every single number was from an unknown number. Shit... He closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He sat down on an empty chair and buried his face in his hands. He sat in silence, pondering over what the hell just happened. |
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| The Prophecy · Fictional | |
 4:14 PM Nov 30
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