Café, Old London 2047
Many things were happening at The Glass House Today, Dillon was busy hand drying a coffee mug with a blue microfiber towel, friends and locals were having their usual drinks, and John Belmont was on his fourth cup of coffee. Dillon took notice of everyone in the café. Six people were drinking tea and coffee at the bar, two couples were at two tables, a gentleman sat in the far corner having breakfast with his newspaper, and there was one woman stark naked in the trunk of Dillon’s car. He was a rather casual man to the average onlooker, Dillon was middle-aged with two light gray eyes, almost colorless. He always wore a faint smile and spoke with purpose, as his training forced him to choose his words wisely.
This was a man who moved around with a subtle confidence no matter what situation he might find himself in. The rough life behind him was responsible for the touch of death in his hair, as his once perfect jet black color was now tinged with grey. Dillon was just about to place the coffee mug he finished drying on the silver hook in front of him when a man at the bar spoke in a heavy British accent. “Another dark for me, sir!” the man said. Dillon finished placing the mug gently on the hook and turned around to pick up the regular’s cup. “John, if I didn’t know any better, I’d wager you spent your afternoons here to get away from the misses.” Dillon said with a smile creeping onto his face. “It’s not the misses, it’s the bloody newborn. It’s like he gets paid to annoy the piss right out of me!” John said as he watched Dillon walk over the pots and refill his mug for the fifth time.
Dillon paused before saying “Well mate, you’re going to have to face the news sometime.” John spoke while watching his coffee mug return to him “What news might that be? That I’ve bloody ruined any chance of sleeping I might have for the next ten years?!” he lifted his mug up and sipped carefully while Dillon spoke. “Mate, you’ve done and spend the last two hours here “Getting baby food” “he held up two fingers to gesture quotes and laughed, then John replied hastily with “Bollocks! You’re right, she’s going to kick me to the bloody dog house again!” John shook his head and set his mug down on the white coaster while Dillon walked over and pressed his index finger to the HOT button resting in the middle of it. John spoke again, “In for a penny, in for a pound I always say.” he paused, “Might as well stay and finish the cup!” John motioned a cheers with his mug. He then focused his attention on the television while sipping quietly. The news reporter on TV was speaking “. Again we’re coming to you from Unicell in London where there’s been an absolute breakthrough in the technology we’re seeing out of these laboratories. Just last week Unicell was working in conjunction with top researchers from NASA and other countries aboard the Space-Station Observatory in Orbit around Mars...” then John interrupted with “Those ruddy lemons at the space station have been spending my honorable tax money on ridiculous inventions for the last decade.”
Stopping only to take another drink he said “Honestly, you’d think civilized people would do something more than just stare out into space all day. Quite literally.” After a slight pause Dillon replied with “It all works out for us in the end mate, look at the table you’re resting on. The table is wirelessly charging your phone and powering the coffee mug that’s currently heating your brew. Now, that sounds mighty civilized to me John.” He smiled softly, then John spoke “You know, I try to never stop and think about such things.” he wore a confused look on his face. “I just can’t imagine how any of it even came about!” It was Dillon who spoke this time, with a spark in his voice, “I’d almost forgotten! Speaking of such things...” he winked, catching John’s eye. “Meet me after last bell, round the back at the Jag.”
He smiled again as John replied “Oh common! The Misses is already going to have my balls in a scrambler, I shouldn’t even finish this cup of Joe!” he was looking down into his mug, then set it back down again as Dillon spoke. “In for a penny, in for a pound you always say.” Both laughing at this, John chimed in again “Hurry about it then, I’ve got couches to sleep on!”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
For the next hour or so, Dillon played the part of a humble Café Owner, wandering around tending to his customer’s orders and refilling coffee. Soon, it was time for last call and before long the warm feeling from all of the business and chatter was gone. To him it seemed like happiness itself was giving way to the cold dark hours of the night, he took pleasure in working long hours at the café. It was a break from his past, and one well deserved.
“Is it bloody well time now?” John looked at Dillon and spoke again “I’ve had nine cups of coffee, and I’m not entirely sure you house enough latrines to holster everything I’m about to unload!” Dillon replied while drying his hands “’Worth the wait entirely, just don’t go shitting about the place old friend.” He laughed, “Follow me through here John!” he said while walking to the back exit door and discarding the familiar blue washcloth onto the countertop. John stood up stretching and followed behind speaking “Honestly, this better be the dog’s bollocks mate, or you’ll soon regret letting me drink all that coffee whence I shit on your beautiful wooden floor.” Dillon walked hurriedly along the sidewalk that extended from the back door into the parking lot.
His black Jaguar the only car in the reserved lot. Aside from him, the only ones who could park there were his Mum and his employees, and they only worked on weekdays. Dillon approached the car and grabbed the handle of the front door, the car instantly scanning his fingerprints identifying him. He motioned for John to stay by the trunk he said, “You can’t repeat this to anyone- “John interrupted “So help me god. Right, I got it.” Dillon then walked back to John, stepping in-front of him and placed his hand on the trunk, opening it effortlessly. Inside of the trunk were two Blue Audio 12” subwoofer speakers and a wireless amplifier all powered by his car when it was running.
John examined the speakers and said “You’ve brought me out here to show me speakers? I might just squat and produce inside your trunk mate” he laughed heartily. Dillon was silent as he walked back over to the driver door, motioning John to open the passenger door behind him, Dillon broke the silence “Take a look at that edge right there” Dillon strained, stretching his arm out to point out the edge between the seat and the door. Dillon spoke again “See anything?” John replied “Might have you gone mad and just decided to show me how fancy your car is?” Dillon pointed again and spoke “You twit, the edge of the seat there, by the belt. See the button?” John nodded and replied “I see the button.” Dillon ordered him carefully “Push the button, pull the seat down.” John used his index finger reluctantly, wondering if he might be shocked, after pushing it in he used his free hand to pull the seat down, revealing only a hard grey surface that appeared to prevent the entering of the trunk from inside the main cabin of the car. “And what exactly is so special about this, might you have to say?” John bearing a rather exaggerated look. “Pay close attention” Dillon said with a grin exploding from his face, he placed his hand on the front console and turned the volume to 26, he then pressed the next button three times, followed by turning the volume back down to 5.
An audible “Click “noise was heard behind John and when he looked to inspect the source, the once grey surface was now open space and that open space was occupied by two very pale feet. John speechless, instinctively pulled the other seat down and took notice of the woman that had lay before him. He was silent for a moment, while Dillon stared at his remarkably shocked expression.
John turned around to meet his eyes, his mouth hanging open “My god, is she dead!?” Dillon was smiling as he replied “Tranquillized.” John turned back to look at the beautiful woman before him. The only thing she wore was a familiar gold bracelet around her ankle. She was short enough to fit comfortably in the space between Dillon’s seat and speakers, which actually turns out to be 5ft even. Her hair was a fiery red, natural in color
. Her eyes, though remained hidden by her sleeping expression, were a prettier green than the day was long. Her name was Freya, and she was Dillon’s soon to-be ex-wife.