Normally, writing fictional stories isn't my thing. I don't do it very often, I don't necessarily enjoy it very much, and I don't think I'm all that great at it. However, this one just happened. I had the craziest dream - the kind that you wake from and wonder why you would dream it (I'm blaming on the cold medicine). The dream was something that would never in a million years happen. But then I started thinking, what if it did? What would it be like? How would it play out? I didn't write the whole thing (probably won't) but I liked the way the beginning turned out...secretive. See what you think.
It started with coffee.
She wondered how many stories started that way – with coffee.
Looking back, she should have known. She should have noticed the nervousness. She should have picked up on the subtle evasiveness. They hadn’t wanted to give away too much information, lest she decide not to come.
They needed her to listen; to hear them out. It was not an everyday request they had. It was going to take some explanation, some thought, some sorting and some decision-making.
She still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the idea. Could she? She was tempted. They had said all the right things. They’d talked straight to her heart; her deepest desires. But was the reality as sweet as the daydream? Could she pull it off in real life? How would she explain it? How would they?
It could be amazing, they had said. It could take what was already great and turn it up a notch. But why her? Top of the list, they’d said. How had she been chosen ? It was total agreement. No other choice compared. Why now? How would it work? What was their purpose? She had so many questions?
No, she wouldn’t share it with anyone. She couldn’t help but think that was part of the reason they’d picked her. She had as much to lose as they did. Was it worth the risk, she wondered?
She hated secrets. But this one was so sweet. It could be amazing.
Could she do it? Did she even want to?
And to think…
It had all started with coffee.