Unfinished Stories

The Girl in the Patchwork Coat

People walk by, I’m not sure they’ve realised yet.

The street isn’t quite what it seems, though people don’t quite care to notice. The cobbles you see, it’s small but there’s a larger difference in height between them. The slightest difference, but enough to feel under your feet, if you notice these kind of things. The grey of the concrete also, was not quite the same shade of grey it had been before. It was as if somebody had been asked to recreate that shade of grey with one too few paints. An insignificant detail, practically unnoticeable to somebody just walking through town in search of say, Trousers and Orange Juice. Something people had noticed though was the man. He was stood at the side of the street, doing nothing much more than leaning against the wall, looking at his phone. Ordinary enough, he was dressed as one would expect on a cold November afternoon, Coat, Hat, Scarf. Perfectly unmemorable. So he had been, as I said, noticed, but nobody had actually taken any notice of him. In fact this street had been changed like this for about eight hours before anybody took any real notice.

Charlie wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck as he left his house at seven that morning. It was a morning as drearily ordinary as any that had been by recently. Charlie had woken up, had a quick shower, got changed, eaten some toast and left for work. The cold winter had very much arrived and was making itself comfortable in the outskirts of London as Charlie left Oakgrove estates and walked his way into town. The usual people walked past him, some new, in town for the day to shop, or have some form of business meeting. Some old, like Mr. Peterson walking his dog, a regular at Charlie’s place of work.

Charlie blew a warm mist on his fingers as he reached the roundabout that marked the start of the town centre. It was there that Charlie first met the strange girl in the coat and the older man who watched over her. Often he would think back to this chance encounter and speculate what his life would be like if he had taken a different route to work. Little did he actually know that it wouldn’t have been all that different at all, and he was part of a big list of events determined to happen regardless of such small obstacles as the route one takes to work.

Anyway as Charlie walked down the street a very strange set of events were taking place in front of him. Firstly a teenage girl in a patch-worked, multicoloured jacket was storming down the street practically knocking people over as she marched towards him.

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