Disclaimer: There's no chance in hell they belong to me and I'm betting ya'll know that.

Comment: This is trés short, and the first whole story I've written in ages. It's also very short. Ok, so you're warned.

Feedback: Why, yes please. If you'd be so kind.


The Other Shoe
By Sascha


Remy still didn't know how this had happened. He couldn't, when thinking back, point at the specific point in time when it happened. It annoyed him because maybe if he was able to say how it started, he would be able to predict how it would end. As it was, he didn't know and thus spent a lot of time being either deliriously happy or waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of course he couldn't go on like that. Deep down he knew that, but he ignored it.

He was happy (well, most of the time anyway), really happy for the first time in years. He saw no reason to start brooding about things now. Would probably have plenty of time to do that later, when... When he was alone again. So he smiled, talked, loved and desperately avoided any conversations containing the word 'future'.

People noticed, since as a whole, people tend to pick up on things like a total change in attitude of people they knew. And a lot of people knew Remy. By face and reputation at least. Not too many actually *knew* him though.

Nobody ever brought it up. Unconciously they all felt the underlaying fear that if they did, Remy's current state of mind would deteriate and he'd go back to being a brooding loner.

There was no way it could have lasted, and it didn't.

A beautiful Saturday morning, Remy woke up as he did pretty much everyday. He got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He did what one normally does in a bathroom, left it and entered the kitchen. He was barely awake and headed straight for the coffeemaker. Bad habit, but a useful one. And like Sek said, healthier than smoking.

He poured himself a cup, emptied it and turned around to look for Jake.

Who wasn't there. Remy blinked in surprise and looked again. Nope, no Jake. 'How strange,' he thought. 'Jake's usually up and busy reading the newspaper around now.'

And then he knew. He just knew that the thing he'd be so desperately avoiding to think about, the only thing he actually feared, had happened; Jake had left.

The cup fell out of his hands and shattered into a hundred pieces against the floor.



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