This one was a two-page assignment featuring dialogue:
It was 1 a.m. and the man sat outside the bar like a convict who had escaped. In a way, he was escaping. The smell of greasy french fries and cheap beer brought him here, or maybe it was the approaching storm that guided his path. He was a man who trusted his nose more than his eyes. The latter got him into too much trouble.
“If a woman looks like a lady but smells like a liar, she’s definitely a liar,” he would always say.
He watched the waitress wipe the remaining empty tables before closing and locking the door for the night. She wore too much makeup, a short skirt, tight black shirt and a scent of truth.
Excuse me, ma’am.
She stopped and turned to him as if to say, yes sir?
They say spilling the salt is bad luck. Does that mean spilling the pepper is good luck?
Who says that? She asked, looking into his eyes. They were a drained out lake of blue. Anything that had ever had lived in the man’s eyes were either lost or stolen.
People, he responded.
What people? She asked, looking deeper into the emptiness.
In the movies.
You don’t strike me as a man who believes in movies.
Well, I believe in luck. Mostly bad luck.
The rain had started to announce it’s presence, kissing the gray pavement beneath their sneakers. His a worn-out, once-white-now-brown pair. Hers a bright red that mirrored her every step.
She spoke. Here’s what i belie—
I don’t care. Interrupted the man.
No, you asked me a question and I’m answering it. The rain beat down harder and she spoke up. Life isn’t about hoping to spill the pepper and avoiding spilling the salt. And if you think I’m wrong, you’re wrong. We are all clay in the hands of the molder. We are the molder. Figure it out. She walked away.
The man sat, prayed in silence the rain would wash away his sins. He’s religious for once. At this point anything is an option. The rain ceases and the baptism of water is over. He’s reborn. A new man, he returns to the road walking off into the distance.
Why does everything happen off in the distance?