This is a
Literotica 750 Word Project 2021
story and my first submission. Hopefully, it won't be my last. I would like to thank Rick, who has shown me genuine kindness with his assistance even in the face of arduous and uncertain times. Also, Randi for her amazingly fast and sublimely accurate editorial work. Of course, this changed the word count so to get it back to 750 words I've stuffed around with it. Sorry, Randi if I screwed up your work.
*
Striding cautiously down its centre his footfall echoed throughout the depressing alley. A zephyr carried a screwn, paper wrapper across his path, further unnerving his fragile state of mind. Through the hazy, bone-chilling midnight air, the light from the single street lamp struggled to find the ground. This somber place he'd haphazardly ventured into at this witching hour reminded him of a shooting gallery. Located in an older, underdeveloped part of his city, with 19th century stone, multi-story buildings lining either side added to a dark ethereal feel of despondency. He had not seen a sign of life for over an hour. Covid19 had drained his city's soul. This was once an exuberant place, full of hope, vitality, and joy, but now, thanks to the covid-19 virus, there was only darkness and deep despair. Was this an analogy to his own life?
His eyes had adjusted enough to the dullness to make out a sign above a doorway. It proudly proclaimed "The Pancake Kitchen. Open 24 hours a day every day since 1972." The irony of its closure was not wasted on him. Was this why he was here? Did his subconscious lure him here? His parents met at the Pancake Kitchen not long after it opened. They came here at least once a year during his happy childhood. It would have been more often but with three brothers' and two sisters' money was always in short supply. Love, laughter, and respect however were plentiful.