This is my last spooky story in the Halloween season. I hope you like it.
One Seat
I go to get something to eat at a small place just off campus with really good pasta and a responsive environment.
It’s still a new idea to me just how many different varieties of pastas I could choose from in a room where I get in a good stretch and touch the walls on opposite sides.
I’ve never had mahi mahi and angel hair. It’s nice and buttery, but the fish almost falls apart too much to get a good forkful of noodle. I frown just a little and the whole room tenses. I’m not a person who is difficult to read, especially about food.
My phone shifts in my pocket. I have a text message, a reminder for a meeting in half an hour. I would have gone over to that right away, but I’m hungry. And it’s about lunch time anyway. I am not sure where the meeting is, but that’s not a problem. I can look it up.
It will keep bugging me, so I just put my phone on the table. The room seems bluer than when I walked in.
There are some other people in the pasta room, but I won’t talk to them. They’re as busy as I am. Why bother them? They have friends to meet and homework to finish before midnight.
I keep eating. The phone buzzes and makes a loud noise. My hand flies in that direction, and my drink covers the table in a sticky mess. I pick up my phone and there is no light on it. It’s out of battery, or just fried. Of course it is. Wonderful.
It’s okay. I have half an hour.
It’s not okay. I don’t know how to get to the meeting. I plug the phone in and it screeches. That’s not encouraging.
After about a minute of pressing the power button and eating my buttery pasta, I start panicking.
I lean over to the next table and ask the man sitting there if I can borrow his phone to call my friends. He hands his phone to me and I call both of the people I am supposed to be meeting with.
“Hey, change of plans. Meet me over at the Tenth Street pasta place.”
Okay. That buys me some time. Nothing to worry about. Now I can sit and enjoy my pasta in peace.
I relax a bit in my chair. The lights change. Now they’re warm orange like the afternoon sun, my favorite color. It’s nice. It keeps the room lively, even though no one has come in since me.
My eyes go wide.
When I’m happy, the room is bright.
When I’m upset, the room is dark.
“This helps the staff figure out what sort of food everyone likes.” The man at the next table tilts his head towards me and gestures to his phone. “You don’t have one that works.”
The room turns red.
