Anders

Anders opened his window and looked down at the empty street, put his coat on and made his way out onto the steps of the apartment block where he lived. ‘Don’t forget the neighbour’s cat!’ A head roared, sticking out from behind a door-way. In a flash the head disappeared, and he turned and made his way down the stairs, opened the main door and walked out onto the street.

Night revellers moving in the night. He checked his phone. No text messages. It was odd because usually his girlfriend would have called by now. He kept walking, came out onto the open road, decided to hot-foot it across, made it to the outside of the restaurant, the lights from the place shimmering in the night. He walked up to the concierge’s desk and was shown to an empty table at the centre of the restaurant, sat, and then, a moment later, a waiter walked over.

‘Can I get you something to drink, sir?’

‘Uh, I suppose, why not? Maybe some champagne?’

‘Of course, sir, I’ll be straight back.’

Anders sat and waited, checked his watch, started to worry; she should be here by now; and, why hadn’t she texted? They had been dating for six months and every Friday night, on the button, they would have dinner together and usually, if she was late, she would call or text. The waiter came back and popped the top off the champagne and poured a glass. Anders took it and sipped, thanked him and checked the time again. She was half an hour late. It wasn’t like her at all. He finished it and poured another one. Forty-five minutes and still no sign. He poured himself another. An hour. Still nothing. He summoned the waiter, asked for the check, paid and left, walked out into the empty night that had no holes barred and tried her mobile phone again but still there was no answer. Andres stood and looked up at the night sky. Where are you, Liz? He tried her number again but there was still nothing, then hailed a cab just as it started to rain, gave the driver her address.

By the time that he they got there, it was a full two hours after when they had arranged to meet and still there was no word. He paid the driver and got out of the cab and stood on the street in the pouring rain, walked up to her house and peered through the window, up at the stairs going up her flat. An empty landing. He turned around and looked back out onto the street. What could have happened? Surely, she hadn’t just ditched him, no, that was impossible, wasn’t it? He looked around at the neighborhood. Maybe, he should call the police? He decided against it, called a cab and went back home, fell into a troubled sleep.

Anders woke early the next morning and checked his phone, but still there was nothing. He thought about it one last time, then decided, finally, to call the police.

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

Hello Pitbull,
Thanks for sharing this story, or story beginning. Here's what I learned: Anders lives in a city apartment with at least one nosy neighbor and one cat loving neighbor. He has a girlfriend, Liz, whom he takes for granted as he does their easy routine relationship. She is perhaps missing and he is worried. And he owns a coat.

The story contains 512 words and could be told more vigorously in about half that number. Most of the surplusage is in the restaurant scene.

Other than having an apartment, a girlfriend, a neighbor with a cat and a coat, your readers know nothing of Anders (also Andres in one place). In regard to the girlfriend we only know he cares enough to worry, she is usually punctual, and she lives in an apartment.

There are six sentence fragments, four of which are easily forgivable, and one comma splice. The expression is : No holds barred, not "no holes barred." The empty street as seen from his window was busy with night revelers and enough traffic to cause him to hot foot a crossing in the short time from exit to crossing.

The story is reported more than narrated and this reader did not feel trusted by the writer.
Thanks for sharing.
Cooper