Dawn had crafted its golden waves. City tops fell into a shade like children tucked for bed, and trees lolled with a light breeze. The faint sun allowed clouds, like wax drippings of a day gone by, to smother the earth in rain. A foreshadow hung in the working individuals, their hands heavy and heads drowsy. It wouldn’t take long for humidity to rise, and for people to take the white noise of rain in comfort and in warm slumber.

The café was in the process of closing, and Dacey looked forward to going home. The day had been taxing, with few but the most short-tempered customers to attend to. Beguiled by the image of her couch, and maybe a nice, long shower, Dacey had little motivation to stay any longer than necessary. In fact, she mused to herself, maybe she could close up a little early.

The broom was terribly ineffective in her heavy, slow hands. Resting the flaming joints, she paused to claim a drink. While sipping a latte, Dacey watched the clawing fists of rain scrub the windows. At least she wouldn’t need to clean her car.

A jingle signified a new customer entering, and the woman grimaced. “Sorry, sir, we’re closing shop.” He was a tall man- about six feet. His sanguine hair was curled tightly and thinly, like a bundle of released yarn tossed carelessly as a wig. It gave him the look of those Raggedy Anne dolls. His skin was like some sort of cheese stretched by heat and quickly cooled over a large slice of white bread.

It looked well worn as he spoke, softly yet abrasively, “I’ll wait until you’re off.” It took a few blinks for Dacey to realize, or hope, that he wasn’t flirting. Though not exactly popular, Dacey wasn’t alien to the wandering eye. It was the city. She got it from both men and women. Downing the last she could stand of her latte, she wondered if he could be from the IRS. He had the suit, and certainly was chilling enough. One could assume he’d grab a late taxpayer for a bit to eat.

While trying not to look at him, Dacey tossed her half-finished latte, went into the back room, and plucked a mop from the wall. She scrubbed the floor harshly, and it squeaked pitifully in reply. Some customers stared at her quietly, wallowing in the remains of what they ordered. Her knuckles were chalk-tinged as she worked, and her stomach twirled like a little girl’s merry-go-round. Eventually she inquired rather tersely, “May I help you?” They shook their head quickly.

Turning back to her work, she heard the heavy scratch of iron on tile. A chorus of wide shoes and flip-flops sounded, ending with a jingle and the thundering applause of rain.

That left her alone with the man, except for Christy in the back. Nevertheless, Christy was not one to come running to help her, so technically she didn’t count. Setting up to close shop, Dacey looking over the place one last time to make sure everything was in order.

Finally arriving in the front room, Dacey stood in front of the man expectantly. “What can I do for you?” she asked, after a pause. Encouraging a sort of explanation for him being there. He shook his head in response, and her face grew hot. “I really need to be getting home, then, sir.” At first, all the response she received was dull-eyed blinking. Eventually he nodded, and looked her over. Dacey shivered and faced the door, shutting out the lights. “I’m out, Christy!” she called, though she doubted the girl would hear or care. “Come on,” she continued to the shady man, and held the door open for him stiffly. “You can come back tomorrow.”

Large black shoes clicked the floor, and charcoal slacks screeched against each other softly. Dacey sighed impatiently, her hands already tired from holding a tray all day. The man sauntered past her, making brief eye contact. Dacey stiffed. What a weirdo. She sighed, and with a wave of her hand sent the door closed. She would think about it later. She just wanted to get home.

The rain caused the rubber in her shoes to squelch as she entered the parking lot. The keys in her hand twittered in glee as she approached her old, rusted green Saturn. After a moment’s hesitation, it awoke with a sneeze. Dacey smiled softly. What a welcome sound, and a symbolic moment. Waves of comfort filled her as she imagined the prospect of home.

The comfort did not last. By the time she was down the road a few miles, she started to experience a strange dizziness. Her hands had suddenly grown numb and stiff, and her muscles twitched erratically. Though she was not far from her home, she was swerving dangerously and reluctantly decided to pull off at the nearest stop. Rain came thickly on the windows of her car, driving down in sheets as she turned for the exit.

It was hard to see anything more welcoming than a little roadside street mall. Dacey didn’t feel comfortable with its looks, appearing rundown with many boarded windows, but she pulled up and allowed the car to silence. Ahead of her was a bookstore- though small and deserted, it appeared crowded with books. With space and location issues, it couldn’t have a great selection, but it looked like it tried. Dacey decided to honor that effort, even if she wasn’t that fond of reading.

After a moment’s breather, Dacey took up her keys and entered the store. There were very few individuals inside, but not one of them seemed to be interested in books. With all eyes on her, Dacey couldn’t help but feeling very tense. She quickly looked to someone who appeared to be in charge, but no one stuck out. So, picking a random well-suited man, she asked, “Where is the restroom?” He jerked his head to the back and looked away.

By the time Dacey scrubbed her face, snuffed a few dusty books, and returned outside, the rain had gone down. With the air only hazed slightly, it was easy for Dacey to notice the absence of her car. Had she parked it farther? Was it stolen? Panic swelled in her chest. What a day! Couldn’t she just get home? In hopes of a phone she could use, Dacey turned. That was all she did, however, for other actions were stopped. The man from the café was on the next step she would have been taking, and his stretched skin webbed in a wicked grin.