Death Date 004: Origin Story

Microstories are stories that are 300 words or less. This is fourth in my Death Date series about the way people live their lives as they prepare for their death.

Our Origin Story

Was it a date?

She said she would make reservations for us at her favorite Japanese restaurant in Berkeley.

Made the reservation for 3, she said, not thinking about who other than 3’s company.

What an odd thing to say.

I responded: cool, let me know if she needed help finding a third (obligatory lol)

When she walked in almost an hour late, you were right behind her.

Let the awkward introductions begin.

This was the night that I finally understood what the word ‘flushed’ meant

Why didn’t she tell me she was bringing her ex?

Shrugged it off, had my answer, no, this was clearly not a date.

She could’ve told me, she knows I’m poly so I wouldn’t have cared either way.

No matter, here we all are now, the 3 of us.

The odd couple plus me.

I couldn’t find anything on the menu I understood, let alone wanted.

She ordered sake for the table.

You and I tried to make small talk.

She slithered back into her chair with a wry smile on her face.

Unsure if it was her scheming, the scene, or the sake.

Odd couple plus me.

The evening felt to drag on, well past my bedtime afterall.

Plus my timing was off, pacific is my least favorite time zone.

I gulped some sake, and asked you how you like Texas.

You froze, all color drained from your face.

I hadn’t noticed how thin your lips were until this chilly moment when all the air was sucked out of the room like sake through a straw.

Next question please, you said through your best behavior.

Mortified. I never recovered.

The night was over 15 minutes later.

As abruptly as we began.

I thought I would never see you again.

Definitely not a date.

.