The Empty Red Seat

I remember rain tapping at the diner window. The smooth white table we sat at held ketchup, salt, and her mournful face cradled in the palm of her hand. The menu appeared as eye-catching as a butterfly in the dark to her. Her dull eyes only scanned the cars outside, drifting by like weary clouds.

At the slightest push, the checkered floor looked ready to fall one by one. But it was us who had fallen, each piece out of place through years of doubt and frustration. 

In the past, our time together flew by, and any silence between us was fine. But this kind of silence was excruciating. It was hard to talk with a stomach full of uncertainty. Four years of magic ended painfully. Other people entered our lives and things became complicated. "I'll call ya," she said. We both knew she never would.

In the foggy windshield, her head leaned forward for a minute before pulling away. Then, with the red taillights reflecting off the wet pavement, I watched, silently saying goodbye, all the while knowing a part of me just drifted away... like a gray, weary cloud.

Author's Note

Note to self: The poem has been slightly expanded from a poem format to a story format. Thanks to anyone who reviews. :)

Reviews

[Rita L. Sev]

This is a richly imaged story, Tim -you paint the scene, emotions and all, so vividly. You are absolutely right about time being different in a diner, plain places of huge moments...

[Relic]

Thanks so much Rita.

[Roger Turgeon]

I'm always attracted to emptiness...even if it is a red counter stool. And though you know its time...separation is never easy. Great job.

[Relic]

Thanks very much Roger.

[Anushka]

Really enjoyed reading this, felt transported to that moment. look forward to reading more of your work:)

[Relic]

Thank you very much.

[Sheila Kline]

Oh my, your words are so poignant that I am whisked away to that diner, and am in a booth near you and your "soon to be gone" love and can feel the anxiousness of the moment, know the realization you are both coming to grips with, and as the domino pattern on the floor repeats its pattern over and over, know that it is over for the two of you! You have been able to really pull the reader into your words, allow one to feel it, "hear" the silence of it, and see your goodbyes.
An excellent write............I think I was there!!!

[Relic]

Thank you very much for your great review Sheila.

[Lyn Anderson]

This is a powerful and vividly descriptive work. One minor question would be the choice of fell after fallen - just an opinion, but perhaps consider swapping out the fell for something else.:)

[Relic]

Hmm, I'll have to think about that one. ...had a foot fallen at all. Sound any better?

[Lyn Anderson]

I think so ...

[Relic]

I'll try it.

[Relic]

I've revised it but I'll think about that line a little more.

[Lyn Anderson]

I think it sounds good -- so either continue to repeat fallen throughout, or swap out the fell in "who'd fell apart?" does that make sense?

[Relic]

But it was us who'd fallen apart" that sounds fine to me. Why did you mention it? Does it clang too much?

[Lyn Anderson]

Oh, sorry, was looking at the previous version this looks perfect like it is. It is a great poem, really, sorry for the confusion.

[Relic]

No problem at all. Thanks for the help.

[Samuel Dickens]

This is an extremely well expressed description of a memory--powerful, painful and sad. It was many years ago, but I remember a similar, awful experience. Outstanding writing.

[Relic]

Thanks so much Sam.