Just Another Nail

 Had the phone vibrated? Hannah squinted; twisted away from the window to focus. She tilted it and then gave in and brushed the screen. It was just past nine in the morning  but the glass was still dimmer than the oyster bone white of the table. No new messages.

She shifted the phone closer. The dark window glass interceded, but didn't block the sunlight. Sweating iced coffee slimed her wrist. She dragged her arm against her skirt, pulling it closer to her knees in the same move. She had over an hour to get to the interview. 

Deep breath, open another useless article full of petty revenges and annoyances.

A woman at a table near the wall started explaining how the assisted living facility hadn’t been able to schedule a tour and now she was going to have buy another plane ticket, fly out, and move her great aunt. Hannah could feel the tightness in the seams of her hose and skirt. The plane trip was going to cost the woman a place at her daycare.

 Hannah picked up her phone and went outside, leaving her bag and coffee. She could call and reschedule. The coffee was wringing her stomach. This side of the smoked windows, the coffee shop looked like a boutique, the interior silver-masked. It drank the sun.

White gravel caught Hannah’s eye. She bent to scoop it up for a worry stone and gagged when she realized it was a fake nail, still caked with glitter. Hannah turned to find the trash and the nail sank into her palm. She shrieked--too thick for a nail.

Something huge shimmered around her in the window. Her hand was only half visible, already caught in the maw of the daylight. It tugged her, she felt the jerk all the way up to her shoulder as her body slammed against the dark glass.

Linking to this week's Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero:  Gothic Fiction. Thanks for forcing my brain into fall, Magaly. :) Well, forcing my brain to work according to theme, length, and schedule. Hope everyone is having a good week and a happy holiday, should you be celebrating Labor Day. 

-- Chrissa