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The Note
#WritcoStoryPrompt15
The waitress' eyes grew wide at the crumpled paper the woman had handed with the money.
"Help," it read.
When she looked up, the woman was gone...
She had been working at the diner for three months now, and she had seen all kinds of customers. Some were friendly, some were rude, some were generous, some were stingy. But none of them had ever given her a note like this.
It was a busy Saturday night, and she was running from table to table, taking orders, serving food, and collecting money. She barely had time to breathe, let alone chat with the patrons. She smiled politely and thanked them for their business, but she didn't really pay attention to their faces or their stories.
That's why she didn't notice anything unusual about the woman who sat in the corner booth. She looked like any other customer, wearing a simple dress and a coat. She ordered a coffee and a slice of pie, and ate quietly by herself. She didn't make eye contact or say much, except when she asked for the bill.
She paid with cash, and left a generous tip. She also handed the waitress a crumpled piece of paper, along with the money.
"Here, this is for you," she said softly.
The waitress thanked her and took the paper, thinking it was a coupon or a flyer. She didn't bother to look at it until later, when she had a moment to catch her breath.
She unfolded the paper and read the message written in shaky handwriting.
"Help," it said.
The waitress' eyes grew wide at the note. She looked up, hoping to see the woman who had given it to her. But she was gone. There was no trace of her in the diner or outside.
The waitress felt a surge of panic and confusion. What did the note mean? Who was the woman? What kind of help did she need? Was she in danger? Did she have someone to turn to? Why did she choose her to give the note to?
She wanted to do something, but she didn't know what. She didn't have any clues or leads. She didn't even know the woman's name. She felt helpless and frustrated.
She decided to keep the note, hoping that maybe one day, she would find out more about the woman and her situation. Maybe she would see her again, or hear from her somehow. Maybe she would be able to help her, or at least let her know that someone cared.
But that day never came.
The note remained in her pocket, a mystery that haunted her for years. A reminder that sometimes, people need help, but don't know how to ask for it. A plea that went unanswered. A cry that went unheard.
© JR2k6
10Sep23
The waitress' eyes grew wide at the crumpled paper the woman had handed with the money.
"Help," it read.
When she looked up, the woman was gone...
She had been working at the diner for three months now, and she had seen all kinds of customers. Some were friendly, some were rude, some were generous, some were stingy. But none of them had ever given her a note like this.
It was a busy Saturday night, and she was running from table to table, taking orders, serving food, and collecting money. She barely had time to breathe, let alone chat with the patrons. She smiled politely and thanked them for their business, but she didn't really pay attention to their faces or their stories.
That's why she didn't notice anything unusual about the woman who sat in the corner booth. She looked like any other customer, wearing a simple dress and a coat. She ordered a coffee and a slice of pie, and ate quietly by herself. She didn't make eye contact or say much, except when she asked for the bill.
She paid with cash, and left a generous tip. She also handed the waitress a crumpled piece of paper, along with the money.
"Here, this is for you," she said softly.
The waitress thanked her and took the paper, thinking it was a coupon or a flyer. She didn't bother to look at it until later, when she had a moment to catch her breath.
She unfolded the paper and read the message written in shaky handwriting.
"Help," it said.
The waitress' eyes grew wide at the note. She looked up, hoping to see the woman who had given it to her. But she was gone. There was no trace of her in the diner or outside.
The waitress felt a surge of panic and confusion. What did the note mean? Who was the woman? What kind of help did she need? Was she in danger? Did she have someone to turn to? Why did she choose her to give the note to?
She wanted to do something, but she didn't know what. She didn't have any clues or leads. She didn't even know the woman's name. She felt helpless and frustrated.
She decided to keep the note, hoping that maybe one day, she would find out more about the woman and her situation. Maybe she would see her again, or hear from her somehow. Maybe she would be able to help her, or at least let her know that someone cared.
But that day never came.
The note remained in her pocket, a mystery that haunted her for years. A reminder that sometimes, people need help, but don't know how to ask for it. A plea that went unanswered. A cry that went unheard.
© JR2k6
10Sep23
