Every year on this exact date, she returned to this exact spot, at this exact time, and waited for the snow. Neither her husband nor her three sons ever understood her fascination with the date, the time, or this coffee shop. But they humored her. She outlived them all and still she came here.
Mina lost her dear husband as he was returning from a business trip. A terrorist attack on the subway system sent deadly gas into the car he rode. Everyone on it died. She'd carried on and raised her sons alone, as best she could.
One son, her oldest, went down in a ship at sea, sunk by an enemy ship during WW IV. Her middle son, the sweetest boy on Earth, lost his life while ministering to the refugees of the first nuclear attack that began the Nuclear Wars. Her youngest son succumbed to cancer caused from the nuclear fallout of that same attack. He'd been with ground troops thought to be far enough away to be safe—hmmpfh—that's how much they knew.
Mina stared into the gloom of the cloudy afternoon and watched for the first snowflakes to fall. There were no children around to run out to play in them. The radiation from the nuclear wars left most of the men sterile. The few children conceived and birthed live rarely ventured outside until after dark. They were easily burned by UV rays during the daylight hours.
She saw one snowflake and then another. Wisps of black smoke rose from where they landed. A man with a familiar face walked near the small window – the man she'd seen all those years ago. Black holes appeared in his hat and he tilted his face toward the sky. Mina watched wisps of smoke rise from his face followed by the appearance of raw splotches from what looked to be acid burns.
The man screamed then covered his face while running for the door of the coffee bar to find shelter.
Watching in horrified awe, Mina saw people scattering in all directions as they ran from the acid-filled snow. Some didn't make it and fell to the ground, burns spreading rapidly on their bodies as the snow came down, thicker and faster. Even the buildings and vehicles began to show damage from the strong acid being washed out of the atmosphere by the cleansing snow. Warning sirens blared over the scene.
People crowded into the coffee bar. Some needed medical attention and others pushed against Mina as they tried to see outside. Satisfied, the old woman drew away from the small window and left them to it. She sat down at the circular bar. Ignoring the emergency bulletins beginning to flash across the news feeds, she drank her cold mocha cappuccino.
A smile of contentment spread across her face.
Well, I may be old, but at least I'm not crazy.
About the Author
Rebecca J. Vickery has been married to the same very patient man for quite a while now. She has one son, a special daughter-in-law, and three wonderful grandchildren.
She lives in South Carolina, USA, and slips away to go camping at Myrtle Beach whenever possible. Long walks on the beach help her to unwind and often ignite her imagination with new stories.
She enjoys the challenge of adding a special twist to her stories of romance. Usually they involve the paranormal, mystery, adventure, suspense, or a bit of fantasy along the way to a happy ever after ending.
Mrs. Vickery also branched out into speculative fiction and has several short stories published in that genre. She owns Publishing by Rebecca J. Vickery, a small independent company, and also Victory Tales Press, where invited authors share their stories in various romance anthologies.
You may visit Rebecca at these sites online:
rebeccajvickeryauthor.com
rebeccajvickery.blogspot.com
www.facebook.com/rebeccajvickery
Other works include:
Surviving With Love
Looking Through The Mist
Seeking Shelter
Following Destiny
And multiple short stories...
Becca's Paranormal Collection Page 14
