Revision time!

Hello there you lads and lads without bollocks, also known as women!

This is a revision of In The Diner, which my dear friend, the magnificent Brooke Rojas herself made.
Thnaks to her and her incredible ability to read my mind and put into words in a lot nicer way!

A Stories from the Mute story In the Diner 

Written by Wille Holopainen

Revised by Brooke Rojas 

  The street hasn’t changed one bit; the old billboard that says you should buy our fast noodles still hangs outside, although they haven’t been sold in over 10 years. The same old man outside still searching through the garbage for something to eat near the diner I always go to. The diner is old and not as glamorous as it used to be but it is where I met my wife for the first time.

   It was June 1999 and she worked there as a waitress while I delivered papers. I took a seat in the corner where I always sit. She came and asked me what I wanted to drink, but I couldn’t say anything so I just watched her. Her hair was like silk, her eyes like diamonds, her mouth looked perfect for kissing, and her body looked as if it was made by the gods. She asked me again and this time I could finally say the words I couldn’t say before. I could feel them bubbling from my lips but they would still not answer her question. Instead they said; “You are the most perfect piece of art in the whole universe.” Which ended my sentence with a slap to the face and hot coffee poured all over my pants.

    I started running. I ran all the way back home on the other side of town and I didn’t see her again after that until school started. I was late on the first day of school and saw only one free seat next to a girl who had brown hair and perfect posture. I apologized to my teacher for being late to class and told him that it would be the last time. I sat next to the girl and when I turned to say hello, it happened again. The words wouldn’t come out, but this time I didn’t even have to try to say anything. After school I put myself back together and went to talk to her.

“Why did you slap me?”

“Because every time I hear those words someone has tried to get into my pants”, she answered.

   Later that year I got to know her better and the more time I spent with her, the more I began to fall in love with her. After the year ended she left to go to a university on the other side of the country but I stayed in my hometown because I had already gotten a job from a butcher.

  Every night for three years I would think of her before I fell asleep. On April 12, 2004 I saw her again. She was eating at the diner where we first met. I had just gotten my salary for the month so I ran to a jewelry shop down the street and picked out the most expensive ring I could afford. With the ring in my hands I quickly ran back to the diner. I arrived just before she paid for her meal. Once I got inside I froze when I saw her. We stared at each other for about 10 seconds before I finally realized what I had come to do. I kneeled in front of her and asked; “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” After the longest minute in my life she opened her mouth and said: “Yes, of course!”

   That is the story of how I met my wife but now the cold wind blows through my bones, and I feel like I am getting old. I just wish I could get old with her. For eight years she was there when I needed her, eight years she loved me and I loved her back. For eight years we were happy, we were healthy, and we were perfect. For eight years my life was finally complete, but in one moment, it was all gone.

   I haven’t changed a thing in our house, though she is now living somewhere else far away, probably with someone else. The phone still sits next to the window and every time it rings it scares the shit out of me. The last time I answered it there was a doctor on the phone who said my love was never coming back home. Her immune system had shut down and in a hospital bed she grew cold.

   I’m not looking for answers to life and death, but dear God, why did you choose her? She was the only thing that held my life together and made me happy. When I heard she was gone I saw dark clouds eclipsed and realized the sun won’t shine again.

  The train is coming soon. I stand on the platform waiting for it to take me away. I see it now and I am ready to get away from this place that constantly reminds me of Ann’s sad, cold fate. As the train moves closer and closer towards me I closed my eyes and begin to take my last step. I am  going to meet Ann once again.