Friday Fast Fiction: The Night Shift


police car

Celeste, eyes closed, pressed the telephone receiver tightly to her ear. Her mind drifted with thoughts of a man she’d met three days ago at a coffee shop. He made her smile and when he said he worked nights but would call her soon, she replied, “Sure you will,” hoping, of course, that he would call. The voice on the other end grew louder. “Are you okay? Say something!”

“Sorry, Jane,  I was …”



“Thinking what? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m going to stay home tonight and listen to ‘Time to Say Goodbye’ and cry, not necessarily in that order.”


“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Are you high?”

“Jeezus Jane, get a grip. And I wish I were.”


“Don’t worry, you aren’t.”

Celeste hung up, but immediately regretted doing that—she’d been in a sour mood since breaking up with a long-time boyfriend. She wanted this new guy to call her—but so far he hadn’t. She didn’t mean to take her disappointment out on a friend, even one who was dense at times. She called Jane back, but when there was no answer, she grabbed her car keys and charged out into the summer evening.  A few minutes later her old sedan was humming down the freeway at 80 m.p.h.;  and a few minutes after that a red light was in her rear view mirror.

“Do you know how fast you were going, ma’m?”

Celeste blinked at the officer. “Archie?”

“I told you I worked nights.”


Published by 67steffen

My labels: grandfather, father, veteran, writer, poet, photographer and dreamer in pursuit of the meaning of life. Getting close, although I'm running out of time--probably why I'm so close.

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