One Shift, One Night
Behind the girl's coat, a tiny hand was visible, holding a little girl with dark curls close to her side.
My children.
A violent surge of emotion exploded behind Gabriel’s amnesia, the white fog in his mind shaking for a single microsecond to reveal the distinct, clear sound of a girl's soft voice: 'The coffee really is terrible...If you want something better... I know a place. Or rather, I’m done with my shift in five minutes."
The fragment vanished as quickly as it had arrived, leaving a metallic taste of pain under his tongue. Gabriel reached out, his hand trembling slightly as his fingers brushed the digital screen, tracing the grainy outline of the little boy’s face.
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