SERIAL FICTION

Lilith and the Poet

Chapter 1

Photo by Gabriel Almanzar on Unsplash

I saw you sitting there, beneath the fluorescent light of the big-chain coffee shop.

The way the sun glinted through the large pane glass window, landing perfectly on you like a spotlight, highlighting the slight auburn in your silky brown hair. I had already had my morning coffee, but seeing you sitting there engrossed in some romance unfolding on the pages before you, suddenly coffee became vital to my survival. I enter the shop; the chime of the bell above the door announcing my trespass, causing you to look up, trapping me in your emerald gaze.

I wonder how it would be to have those same eyes take me in under the midnight moon as I lean in for a kiss that would ruin me forever.

I approach the counter and order a black coffee, even though I don’t like the taste without the sugar and cream. But you make me want to put down childish things and become the man worthy of taking care of you. I take my seat on the other end of the coffee shop and wonder what your name might be, and how it might taste on my tongue.

Sweet enough to fix this bitter coffee in my hand.

One more sip and maybe I’ll have the courage to ask you. But then again, who am I to disturb God’s masterpiece?

After this cup… I tell myself as I take a tiny sip.

After this cup I will talk to her.

I sit there and study the small white cup and allow its heat to seep into my winter-chilled hands.

I never understood why they make the handles so small.

I lean back into the cushion of my seat and think of what I might say; I have never been good with women. When I see them, my thoughts flood with poetry. However, when I work up the courage to talk to one, my words and my sense abandon me.

“Girls like it when you make them laugh,” my older brother used to tell me.

And judging from his experience, I would have to say that was true. But I was always better with poetry than jokes.

I realize I must have zoned out when a voice snaps me back to my senses. I almost drop my coffee when I see her standing on the other side of my table. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in her emerald eyes.

“I got tired of waiting to see if you would work up the courage to talk to me. So I decided to come over here myself.”

She leans over the table, close enough for me to see the faint freckles on her nose, as she sticks out her hand.

“I’m Lilith. And you are?”

It takes me a moment to recover from the trance placed on me by the sweet melody of her voice, and I search my mind to find where that oh-so-elusive name of mine has run off to.

“Lilith,” I mutter to myself, sampling its flavor on my tongue.

She chuckles and sits down across from me.

“Normally this would be where you tell me your name,” she teases.

My cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Conner. My name is Conner.”

“Well, Conner,” she says, ticking her manicured fingernails on the hard surface of the table. “Where are you taking me tonight?”

That night I took her to the best restaurant in town. Joe’s Pizza for a New York slice.

While we ate, we walked around the city, and I told her about my poetry; how I’d gotten a book deal but still hadn’t been able to write a single word. And she told me about how she had traveled to every known part of the world. And even to some parts that most people didn’t know existed. And before long we had slipped into conversation with the ease of old lovers.

When it came time for me to leave her at her doorstep, my heart felt full; a feeling I realized I hadn’t had for some time. We stood there, at the bottom of the steps, still holding the hands that had found each other at some point during the night.

“When can I see y — ”

But my question is cut short when she grabs me by the collar and pulls my lips into hers. And just as I had suspected, she has ruined me.

“Come by in the morning,” she says, breaking the kiss. “We’ll get coffee,” she adds as she begins making her way up the steps, leaving me alone and speechless at the bottom of the stairs. “See you tomorrow, lover boy!” She calls down to me.

“I’ll be here!” I call back.

“I know,” she says, winking and giving me one last smile before entering her apartment and closing the door.

Now alone, I quickly make my way back to the street and hail a taxi. Words are flooding into me like the snowmelt runoff after an especially harsh winter. And I fear that if I don’t write them down soon, I will lose them. I get in the cab and tell the driver my address. And when it arrives, I hand the driver a twenty and tell him to keep the change, even though the fare was only half that. I burst through the door of my one-bedroom apartment, sit at my desk, and, no longer plagued with writer’s block, begin to type.

Meanwhile, back at Lilith’s brownstone.

When Lilith closes the door to her apartment, leaving Connor at the bottom of her steps, she chuckles to herself. It had been a long time since she’d met someone so genuine and kind, and not to mention handsome. The way his long curly hair rested on his broad shoulders, and his hazel eyes that did not attempt to hide what he was feeling. She almost felt bad about what she would have to do to him. But she tried not to think about that. She flicked on the light, revealing the legion of demons gathered before her.

“He is the one,” she said, a wicked smile spreading across her lips.

To be continued…