The First Tally

She drew a line in her book as she watched the people enter and leave the starbucks. No one came as a group, but no one left alone. She counted the computers with the starving and desperate authors. Another tally. She wondered if any of them knew they’d never be published. She observed all the girls in uggs. At least 6 were just in her line of sight. She wrote down a line for each of them. She looked down and saw it was only 9:32am. She sighed. Eleven hours and twenty-eight minutes to go.

White and Black Make Red

The girl didn’t stay in her spot long. She usually moved at least 3 times a day as to not disturb the customers, make them suspicious. At noon, she sat at a stool that overlooked the workers making the drinks. Fascination over took her as she stared at their hands quickly moving to get orders done. This also allowed her to watch customers with their drinks. Her eyes stared intently as a woman she hadn’t noticed before took her white hot chocolate and poured in an almost black substance. The pale liquid began to change to a vibrant red.

Two Forgotten Hours

The girl with the notebook swept through her pages, trying to find where she had tallied this woman. She checked each category that she might’ve fit in; lonely old women; cougar soccer moms; miscellaneous. All the sections counted up to her original number, excluding this woman. How could she have missed such a loud individual? She looked up and stared at the woman that now sat by the window. The woman stared back.

They Didn’t Search Her Car

They stayed with eyes locked for more than half an hour at least. The girl with the notebook swore she never even blinked.  She never noticed the woman look to her car where 5 dogs sat and stared at the notebook girl alongside their owner.

The Death Of...

At 5pm exactly, the baristas collapsed. At 5:02pm exactly, five new baristas filled their places. Customers didn’t take notice. The unknown woman’s hair changed five colors.

Her Brown Boots

9pm on the dot, the woman with the car full of dogs stood up and clicked her heels. The girl with the notebook took notice to how whatever she put in her drinks had bled through and stained her cup red. A barista walked to her seat to confront her, but half way to her, they collapsed. Exactly two minutes later, a new barista filled her place. One that wouldn’t ask questions.

The Massacre of the 1970s

Her face suddenly became recognizable to the girl with the notebook. She had murdered a coffee house of 112 in the 1970s. She had slit their throats and collected vials of blood. She was in jail on death row for 13 hours before she had disappeared. With her disappearance, more murders occurred in shops around the country. As she recognized her, the woman turned to stare at the girl with the notebook. The woman’s dogs now sat at her side. They weren’t there minutes before. It then occurred to the girl with the notebook that this coffee shop was next.