Short Little Stories

The last time he saw her was two days after the murder.

They were at work, it was the middle of the afternoon, and pure coincidence had them walking down the same hallway at the same time. It wouldn’t happen again – maybe they unconsciously avoided walking where they might encounter each other, maybe the odds were so low that this one last meeting was all fate had in store for them.

The hallway was well-lit, and empty other than the various flyers and posters cheerfully proclaiming the latest corporate golfing trip, or day at the ball-park. Her footsteps echoed as the hard soles of her boots sounded a sharp rhythm against the floor. His newly-purchased shoes, embarassingly, squeaked with every step.

They exchanged a brief glance, ending as soon as their eyes met and they each quickly looked away.

“Hey,” they spoke in unison.

“How are you?” they said, as each walked passed the other, a greeting empty of actual inquisition, trained into them by a flighty and uncaring world.

Neither gave nor received an answer. They never saw each other again.