Quiet Little Monsters

I rubbed at my temples, trying to ease the sharp prods this man caused in my head.

What the fuck? How hard is it to get a fucking raspberry scone? This girl is a fucking slow...

I slipped the small pastry in the wax bag and smiled anyway at the small and bony business man who still smiled back at me when he took the scone from my hands. He left with a wave and another friendly grin. How ironic.

I looked around the small bakery. People were cramped in the small wooden tables, reading books and sipping on coffee. A mother was wrestling her son into his stroller. A couple was holding hands in the corner. It all seemed very normal. I hated that their thoughts ruined it.

Oh, God! I should have never let Rich talk me into having children. This kid doesn't even like me! The mother practically sobbed as her son threw his bottle at her.

Please don't let him find out I slept with his best friend. Please don't let him find out. Oh God, I'll never do it aga- The girl chanted over and over again as she smiled at the man across from her who was now rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb.

I tried to exit their thoughts and leave them be. It had become a skill of mine –compartmentalizing these thoughts that didn't belong to me. It was like having a door in the back of my mind that I could shut with a lock and key. The buzz was still there, but more like background noise than blaring voices that made it so hard to think of anything else.

The bakery didn't belong to me, but to my mother. However, since she was constantly on vacation in Paris with her much younger husband, I was stuck with it most of the time. It was called Dolly's after me, of course.

Just as I was going to head to the back to ice the cupcakes that had cooled, the bells on the door jingled, signaling that another customer had entered. I stopped and turned on my heel. My eyes stayed on my crème platform wedges; not making eye contact with people made it easier to avoid their thoughts.

"Hello, how can I help you?" I murmured quietly at this new customer.

"You can start by looking at me," a smooth voice replied.

My hazel eyes trailed up to meet the stranger. His hair was a wavy mess of caramel hair that contrasted with his pale green eyes. I looked down to his mouth which was set into a dazzling white smile, then my eyes shot back to his eyes. My lips pursed in confusion.

"May I just have a large black coffee?" he said and glanced at the nametag on my chest, "Dolly? So is this place yours?" he asked conversationally.

I just stared at him. And stared at him. And stared at him.

I dug into his head. Nothing. A sea of voices flooded in as I left the door ajar to hear this man's voice. Nothing. He stared at me with a questioning look. I broke out of my trance and blinked.

"Oh, uh. Sorry. I just.... uh. Long day," I stumbled through my words and shook my head slightly, turning to pour out a steaming cup of coffee behind me.

"Uh, so is this place yours?" He asked again, "You're Dolly. This place is called Dolly's. Or is it just some creepy coincidence?"

My hands were busy as I snapped the cup with a lid and listened for his thoughts.

"My mother owns it. She... she left me in charge," I muttered, "Cream and sugar?"

"Nope, just black," he said and I handed him a coffee while he handed me two bucks.

It was silent again as I gave him back his change. The stranger smiled and gave me a nod. He turned and walked out, leaving the bells on the door jingling as he stepped out onto the street.

Other than that jingle, there was silence. Silence. Silence.