The long and short of it

 “She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf...” He paused staring at computer screen, wondering if these words held the meaning he intended to impart to them, the cursor blinking at the end of his sentence. Rohit stood up and stretched, yawning to his heart's content, he was bored, maybe he needed to take a break, a coffee break, he smiled at the thought. It was nearly 8 p.m, Arpita should be back from work soon. Without sparing a second thought he walked over to the closet, threw on a pair of track pants over his shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed his car keys and rushed out of the apartment. It was a dull Friday evening, it had been raining intermittently all day yet it was quite humid and oppressive for lack of really heavy showers. How he wished for rain, proper torrential rain that would wash away yesterday's dirt and grim. After waiting few minutes for the lift, he suddenly decided to climb down the stairs, not a small feat considering they lived on the 13th floor. He had been stuck in a zone for sometime now and couldn't seem to break out of it, his story was due tonight but the words were stuck in his head somewhere refusing to form a story, a concrete story. Rohit knew why he felt so thwarted, after all life was boring and perfect, they had a lovely apartment in a posh part of the city, his wife had a high profile job at a advertising agency, he had the luxury to quit being a corporate slave and follow his dream to be a writer, but after the initial euphoria everything is just the same, same old boring life. Reality is the worst thing that can happen to anyone, he thought gloomily looking at the overcast sky as he walked out of the building. The keys jangled in his pocket, again impulsively he thought of walking instead of driving, maybe a walk would clear his head and taking things in might help him to form an idea for a story. There are two general ways one usually tells a story, either they focus more on the surrounding and describe every thing in painstaking details, how the pavements looks and feels as someone walks on it, the detailed descriptions of people walking by and so on. Or one focuses on how the protagonist feels and thinks as he or she walks on that pavement, Rohit was more of the later since most of his thoughts were quietly introspective, but he felt his story telling lately was lacking a punch, maybe it was time to try a different way. He sighed, feeling tired, everything seemed like a good idea at first but now he was feeling tired and worn out. Turning left by the corner of the road, he walked in to a sleepy little coffee place. It was nearly 8:30 pm now yet the place was strangely deserted. The coffee shop had wooden flooring which at first glance would appear dark and drab, but the thing which drew him to this place were the glass wall overlooking the street. He looked around searching for a perfect spot, the pain of too many options. He was about to take a seat when he saw her....sitting by herself, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. Something lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf...he felt quite light headed all of a sudden, it was as if reality was slowly slipping away from him. Rohit steaded himself grabbing the chair by his side, it creaked under his weight, a jarring noise which broke the spell of the moment. She turned to look at him, she had startling clear gray eyes. There was a slight buzzing in his head. He smiled at her, feeling silly. She smiled back, which gave him the courage to approach her. “Is this seat taken?” He asked pointing to the chair facing her, she smiled, nodding yes. He felt surprisingly crestfallen and was about to leave when she grabbed his hand, “I was only joking! Please sit.” Rohit seated himself, feeling ridiculously happy and awkward. It had been too long since he had coffee with such an attractive woman. She seemed to guess his discomfort, but didn't try to initiate any conversation, just smiled at him and twirled her slender fingers over the handle of her coffee mug. He was aware of the noise of the city behind him, the buzzing in his head had subsided. He felt he must break the silence, after all words were his best comfort. “Do you come here often? I mean to say I haven't seen you before...” He grimaced at how awkward he sounded, maybe silence was better. She smiled again, and looked away. He had half a mind to apologize and just walk away when she spoke, “I was wondering if I would see you tonight, you come here quite often....” an eerie feeling gripped him, when had she seen him? Did their path ever cross before? Was he thinking about her when he was writing today? Looking at his thoughtful and puzzled face, she laughed softly, “Did I creep you out or something? I am not a stalker, don't worry...” “Oh no! It's just a very strange coincidence. I had been writing a short story today, I write for a weekly column in 'The Time', and I was describing this very scene, a beautiful girl sitting by herself, sipping coffee and her blue silk scarf....” He trailed off glancing furtively at the object covered by the silk, the scarf had a very detailed floral pattern stitched in white...The object looked suspiciously sharp and elongated. She arched her eye brows, “Oh! you are a writer then?” He smiled sheepishly, “Well, I try...I am Rohit by the way”, he was starting to feel normal again, enjoying her pretty face, such stark grey eyes, so unusual! She laughed again, this time, a harsh hacking sound, not really soothing, Rohit squirmed a little in his seat. “How would be like to be part of a story? He stared at her, a little lost for words, “I am sorry? I didn't quite catch that...?” She sighed, “Would you like to walk with me...” He blinked twice before mumbling, “I don't even know your name..” She seemed disappointed, “Names are meaningless but if you must insist, you can call me Lisa. So would you like to take a little stroll with me?” “Where would you like to go?” He asked, tempted by the thought yet not quite sure if he should, Arpita must be back from work. “Just round the corner, here and there”, She shrugged, her right shoulder had a pretty little mole on it, “Well, then?” she stood up gathering the mystery object and her scarf, stuffing them into her tan leather handbag. Rohit got up in a hurry, spilling a little of her coffee. He towered over her petite frame. They walked out of the coffee shop, together. The street outside was empty, Rohit looked at his watch, it was after 11 p.m, had they really been that long in the shop? He turned back, and saw a man pulling the shutters down on the little coffee place. Apparently, they had kept the poor man waiting. He saw Lisa walking ahead, her lithe frame draped in a floral printed white sleeveless dress, her hair billowing in the wind. He realized it must have rained, the weather seemed a lot cooler. Lisa slowed her pace and let him fall in pace with her. “Was it such a bad idea, then?” Lisa smiled, slipping her hand through his arm. Rohit went rigid for a moment, and then his heart started racing....it was quite rare for a woman to have such an effect on him.. “No, not at all, actually I was thinking for your well being, how could you want to walk with a man you barely know? I mean, who knows, I could be a killer, right?” She smiled, her teeth glinting in the street light, “Who knows I could be one, too?” He smiled uneasily. They had walked for quite sometime, taking a by-lane right behind the coffee shop. “Where are we going? Shouldn't you go home, I could drop you home..” The streets were so deserted and the dim lights playing hide and seek in the shadow, how he regretted not taking his car, he would have to walk the whole way back. “Ah! Wouldn't you like that? Dropping me home?!” She laughed, leaning over his shoulder, her voice mellow and teasing. Rohit felt his ears burning, “I..I..”, he stuttered, embarrassed. “Come on now, I was just playing with you, I live just down the road” She pointed ahead to a dark alley,”That is a blind lane, isn't it?” He was confused, the road ahead ended in a pitch dark nothingness, this was hardly inviting. Rohit was regretting the whole thing, Arpita must be worried...for a while when he had longed for some of excitement in his dull bleak tepid life he had forgotten the comforts of it, the calm security, the warmth of it... Lisa had again increased her pace and she strode ahead without looking back. Feeling an increasing sense of discomfort and alarm, Rohit had no choice but to follow her. The uncanny fact was the whole neighbourhood was deserted, he could hear a dog barking in the distance. It was getting darker, the streetlights had dimmed somehow, he saw her silhouette about ten feet away, her back towards him. He was wondering if he could just walk away, but felt a bit protective about her, he couldn't just leave her in the dark. “Lisa, are we there yet? Where do you live? Lisa?!” He nudged her, turning her to face him. It could have been the lighting, but her face...her face seemed distorted somehow, her eyes dark cavernous holes, engulfing him and in her hand was a long thin rod, emitting a sickly green glow... “Won't you help me home?” Lisa pleaded, her voice cracking, distorted and filled with static...Survival instinct is strange and can kick in all of a sudden...Rohit ran, he ran past the street lights flashing by, their afterglow tailing him, the sad little coffee place closed for the night, ran through the blaring traffic and ran home... Panting and shaking he reached home, his fingers proved too thick and shaky to pry open the lock, and then the door opened. “Where were you? I was so worried? Why couldn't you carry your phone?” Arpita looked genuinely haggard but angry at the same time. He fell into her arms, wrapping her warmth about him, wishing he had never left. “What happened? Why are you shivering? Oh my God? Are you hurt, is that blood?” She held his face in her palms, looking deep in his eyes, searching for answers he didn't have. He freed himself from her arms and walked across the room sliding into the couch of their living room, too much in shock to do anything else, wishing he had never strayed from his normal “boring” life....Arpita yelped in disgust,”that's not blood, is it?...”, and then he noticed his hands, they were stained with a thick gooey liquid.....and it glowed green.