Fiction: Moving Out (650 words)

03 Sep

In all the time that Maggie lived in the house that Daniel built her, she only once had a roommate.  A guy named Stephen lived in the spare bedroom for exactly eighteen months.

Stephen didn’t speak.  Well, not in any traditional sense of the world anyways.  It was one of the reasons that he was one of Maggie’s best friend, and why they worked so well together.  Because there was nothing that a hermit liked more than an absolutely silent housemate.  He used a bit of sign language when he absolutely had to communicate like a normal person, but mostly, silence.

He was–well, Maggie had dubbed Stephen the Super Psychic.  He was nothing like anything else she’d seen before.  More impressively, he was nothing like anything else that Daniel had seen before.  He had no psychic blood in his family.  In fact, as far as anyone could tell, Stephen had no supernatural anything in his bloodline. But he could look at anyone, a simple and small glance, and he knew what they were trying to say, and he knew what to say back.

Not that he said anything, mind you, but–it was like they could feel him thinking it.  They could just understand in that moment what he was trying to say to them. It was weird, and comforting, and odd, and frankly Maggie found it fascinating, which is why she let him crash for so long.

It all ended one morning. Maggie came down the stairs to find Stephen at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal,  his redhead bowed low over his food.  He didn’t look up, and nothing happened, but it washed over her like a wave.

“Oh.  Right. Well, goodbye then,” she sighed, sitting down to the other side of the table, “Leave me your keys when you go.” She wasn’t hurt, though she was a little surprised.  She didn’t see that anything had changed, so she didn’t get why he was so determined to go.  But who was she to stop anyone. Besides, it would be nice to be able to walk around in her underwear again whenever she wanted to.

Maggie blushed to the roots of her hair as she looked up to see Stephen smirking at her.  She felt that she would have been welcome to walk around in her underwear at any time in she wanted to.  “Shut up. No one asked you.”

Stephen put his spoon down and held up his hands in surrender. But then he let the smile slide from his face, and just looked Maggie in the eye. It was all she could do to not flinch away. Everything was about to change.  Stephen saw that.  He was getting out of dodge, not because it was something to fear–but the change was so drastic that he wasn’t willing to stay.  He pulled his hand into a fist and rubbed a small circle in the center of his chest.

“You’re sorry?”  Maggie asked, “You’re sorry for what?”

But Stephen had no more to say, anyway you sliced it.  His stuff was already out of the house.  He cleaned up his breakfast before crossing back to Maggie to drop his key in her hand and a kiss to her forehead.

Maggie decided not to let it shake her.  After all, alone was her natural state, and she did have a lot of work to get done.  She grabbed one of her many conveniently placed bottles of scotch from around the house, and made her way to the library in the back of the house.

She tried to work and ignore the fact that the house did feel empty now without Stephen around.  She had almost managed to forget when she heard her front door bang open. “Oh, love of my life! Where is your beautiful face?”

So, Danny was bringing the big change with him.  Why wasn’t she surprised?

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Posted by on September 3, 2015 in Stories


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