The coffee shop on Fulton barely paid minimum wage, but there was new money in the neighbourhood, and the tips were good. Most mornings, on my early break, I’d see them part with a kiss on the top step of the brownstone at 708. There didn’t seem a lot of love, but at that age I certainly wasn’t an expert on the matter.
One damp, fall morning I watched as he left in a hurry without his kiss. From an upstairs window a woman’s eyes briefly met my own. Heavy, red drapes were then pulled tight once more. I never saw her again after that – nobody did.
These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge. As this is my final story for 2015 I will take this opportunity to wish all my friends on FF a Happy New Year. See you all again in 2016.