A Five-Minute Life

Gregory didn’t hear my whispered words or see me frantically blink the tears away. “Here you go.” He

handed me a tray with the cups of coffee lodged in the holders. “And here’s some extra cream and sugar for you.” He piled the packets between the cups.

I reached for the tray and he nodded his head at my arm.

“New tattoo?”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “I got it today.”

“This morning?” Gregory said, cocking his head. “Pretty early for tattoo guys to be up.”

“Oh, no, I mean yesterday.”

Was it yesterday? Or the day before?

“What’s it say?” He peered over the counter to read it. “Keep me safe.”

“It’s what Jimmy does.”

“You look a little pale,” Gregory said, frowning. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “I should go.”

“Well, it’s been a pleasure, young lady,” Gregory said. “Next time you’re in town, make sure to pop in.”

“I will.”

“Thea?”

I blinked. “Yeah?”

Gregory shifted and glanced at the line waiting behind me. “I need to serve the next customer, honey,” he said gently.

I glanced behind me, then at the tray of coffee in my hands, still outstretched over the counter. “Oh, right. Sorry. Bye.”

Tears threatened again for Gregory suddenly pushing me out the door.

He’s busy, that’s all. And you’re over-emotional.

I took the coffees outside, blinking hard at the sunlight that was relentlessly bright this morning. I went to the corner and hit the button to cross. The light was red, then turned green and a countdown of twenty seconds began to let pedestrians know how much time they had to cross.

“You waiting for a personal invite?” a man said, as he strode past me to cross the street.

I blinked. “What?”

The timer on the crosswalk was down to eight seconds. I hurried across and tried to calm my racing heart.

I lost twelve seconds?

“Not yet,” I murmured to myself, sucking in a deep breath. “It can’t be this fast.”

I crossed the hotel lobby that was mercifully dark and cool. I rode up to the sixteenth floor. No problem. No lost time. Outside our hotel room door, I took a final, steadying breath and keyed inside.

“Here you go,” I said, too loud and high-pitched.

I set the coffee tray down on the desk beside the window where Jimmy stood, wearing jeans and nothing else.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.