In the Wee Hours, Chapter 2
A man in black, a brick, and a porcelain cat
Written in response to Reedsy prompt from Contest #304 "Center your story around an author, editor, ghostwriter, or literary agent." Expanded from original version.
*Originally published 6/22/2025; updated and split into four chapters on 8/25/2025.
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Sarah stood frozen, unable to wrap her head around what had just happened. She’d had weird customers before—almost on a nightly basis—but this was so far beyond what she’d experienced, she just couldn’t.
Her mouth dropped open several times in a row, like a dying fish gasping.
Finally coming back to herself and the present, she looked around. Still alone in the store. Good.
She peeked in the restroom. Clogged toilet. Not good.
She sighed so hard this time, she felt the shift settle in her toes. This night just kept getting better.
Muttering to herself, “No toilet paper, huh?” She plunged the toilet and cleaned up the mess. By the time she finished and resumed her station, she had shaken the weirdness off.
Chalking the whole incident up to yet another high customer acting out, Sarah went back to barely existing behind the counter again. Normalcy restored.
As she was locking up for the night, she was daydreaming about chocolate. She had a stash of truffles at home. Thinking blissfully of her future indulgence, she was unprepared for the glass next to her head to suddenly shatter.
