This short story will be continued on a weekly basis. In a tragic turn of events, Thomas rips through an exterior shell of assertive dominance to explore hidden insecurities. With an unlikely gift, he pushes through physical and psychological limits in an attempt to atone. The Watch delves into themes of time, perseverance, and guilt.
I. The Restaurant
It was innocent. A casual date during a weekday afternoon to escape the rigidity of routine. It was a chance to start all over, to depart from a tumultuous past, and to sweep away any remaining fragments of failed love. I abandoned every given chance to properly heal and to my dismay, my unkempt mind slept beneath long hours of work.
This routine buried me into a damp subconscious grave isolated from any precarious thoughts. As I looked above from within this icy darkness, every doubt I ever had stood tall gazing downwards upon me, each wearing a resentful look on its face. I felt judged but through it all, I was unbothered because I almost had the world trembling at my feet. I’m not someone that gets rolled over. I will fight back and say what’s on my mind and I will not hold back if you come at me.
It was a chance online encounter that led me to a Portuguese restaurant in Houston’s Midtown district. We met on the type of dating app you use when all other options to genuinely meet a girl in the real-world fail. It promised to be different but instead I was presented with a batch of single women projecting a façade of complacency and success through their carefully curated profile pictures. I hurried to get there quickly after work despite the flurry of rush hour traffic.
As I stepped inside, the neglected restaurant starved for guests succumbed to an utter stop. Outside in the street, the screaming sirens and loud humming of traffic slowly faded into a vacant whisper. The golden wash of the sun’s light flooded the restaurant and one by one the few remaining waiters dwindled away into floating particles glistening in the air. There was a nurturing strangeness behind the unexpected idleness.
On the far end nestled in a booth Claire waited, anxiously peering through a large window onto the barren street. She wasn’t traditionally attractive compared to the other women I’ve met online but a striking luminosity dwelled within her. With each step towards her, I walked further into a dream and at the door, I left behind any traces of doubt.
Regardless of how hard I try; the topics of our small talk evade me. I can see her rosy lips mouth nothing but silent words. Our entangled gaze broke through layers of abandoned earth and grew beneath to new unfathomable depths. A bond emerged from within the ground surpassing the tallest trees in forest. We went through glasses of wine, rounds of cocktails, and the world moved on leaving us to drown together into our drunken conversations until the late evening hours.
…
C. Campos
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