Langston, whose name absolutely came from a famous author, a question he often got, sighed as he snapped his credit card onto the table. He had trouble picking up the bill. He didn’t mind paying; he minded that it was expected of him.
He had arranged date after date in the last few months. This was the twelfth. Out of them, three didn’t show, seven had been dull and one had been average. If he was being honest with himself, this one was pretty awful.
She was much younger than him and jabbered through dinner. Grace, that was her name. He knew all about her, and she knew nothing about him, apart from being a good listener. She didn’t even ask why he was still here?
“Let’s get together again,” she giggled in a breathless voice, one that was full of air and sounded like wind chimes. “I really enjoyed talking with you about, you know, stuff.”
Ugh, Langston’s heart flopped and fell all the way to the bottom of his stomach. Did she stay stuff? That really was the last straw for him.
“Listen, Grace, I don’t think I am up for that.”
Her face fell, and she stared down at the table, finally running out of things to say.
He left the restaurant alone, making a mental note to be pickier about birth dates. The age gap with Grace was too much. They were decades apart and had nothing in common. It just wasn’t possible to find that thread that wove through both of their lives, something to tie them together.
He took the long way home because walking gave him clarity, left him floating. He looked up at the brick buildings as he travelled along the crowded sidewalk until his eyes unfocused. He was so engrossed in his dating debacle that he almost bumped into a woman holding the hand of a flaxen-haired girl, who shivered as he passed. How could he find a partner when he always chose wrong?
When he got home, he climbed the steps to his attic apartment, each board creaking as he ascended. He flopped onto his sofa, positioning himself around the spots where the fabric had worn thin, his body leaving no indentation, and dozed off.
He awakened to a loud banging. He slowly opened his eyes just as the metallic crashing from the floors below stopped. His felt hollow as he looked around the empty room. He really hated being lonely. There had to be someone out there for him.
“Langston, you can do this,” he said to the frosty space.
In that moment, he resolved that he could. His iPad felt light in his fingers when he picked it up. He logged into the Spiritual World app and watched the logo flash on the screen, Ghosts Meeting Ghosts in the in Between. His matches loaded, landing in his inbox one by one. He began swiping, hoping he could be luckier in love now than he had been in life.
Brigitta Scheib is a teacher that lives in Harrisburg, PA with her husband, daughter and 3 orange cats. Her work can be found at Temple in a City, Flash Phantoms, A Story In 100 Words, Bright Flash Literary Review and Choeofpleirn Press.
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