Just a simple cup of coffee between you and me.
It's been two months since this man has starting coming to our shop. He sits down every morning around eight in the same booth in the far corner where one has the option to see everything inside the shop or watch what goes on outside through the glass windows. He rarely orders anything and judging by his attire, he lacks the currency to do so. Either way we've never forced him out, we don't have those "pay to sit" rules here. He doesn't cause trouble either. I found out from one of the others what his name is. We were all curious about him but too afraid to do anything other than muse about his life...until the day my curiosity got the best of me, until the day I decided to offer up a warm cup of coffee, on the house.
Getting from point A to B
I'd only noticed two weeks ago that this man and I had been taking the same route to get to our perspective destinations. Every morning at eight he'd sit at one end smoking a cigarette while I sat on the other, smoking my cigarette and damning the train to hell for being late once again. I didn't really care to make small talk but I'd left my lighter on the nightstand. I could see it's purple plastic, clear as day, in my mind. That was what brought me to stand in front of this man, who smoked every morning as I did, to ask for a light. As I said before, I don't talk which is why I was so surprised to find myself standing next to him the next day with the need to say something, anything for the man's opinions where far more interesting than cursing a moving piece a metal to hell.
Handwritten letters are hard to come by these days
As a child she would right letters detailing her future hopes and dreams, what she thought about the world, and many times what she thought about herself. After finishing it, she would open the yellow pages and pick a random name, writing their address on the envelope and mailing it to them with the hopes that they might reply. She did this for two months, giving up when not one person replied. At the time she didn't know that a stamp was required or that it was returned to the sender's address. Now an adult, she still continues to write these letters, only they are for her alone. But, on one particularly grievous day she writes, writes and writes. Folding three pages and sliding it into a purple envelope. Opening the yellow pages, she picks a random name, writes their address on the envelope and places a stamp on it before taking a night walk to the mailbox two blocks away and sliding it in after only a moments hesitation. She didn't really think anything would come of it, afterall it didn't when she was a child....right?
something along the lines of a psychological/supernatural/paranormal activity type deal where there's a character who had an imaginary friend that they used to play with. As they grew older the person sort of forgot about the imaginary friend but it was always there looking out for them in way unthinkable to the person (killing people who harmed it's creator, putting things in her favor, etc.). The imaginary friend grows tired of the person not remembering them and shows itself, only the person doesn't want anything to do with the imaginary friend. It doesn't like that and makes the person's life a living hell. It's a super rough idea but one I've been thinking about.
I was thinking there would be a war going on (it would be a futuristic war or one we've already experienced in the world, or a fake one) and character a is living in the enemies territory under the guise of being a normal citizen. They'd escaped from a camp and managed to make a small life for themselves. In the process they meet character B who is very patrotic to their territory and they begin a relationship. Unfortunately for character A, character B finds out about who they really are. The story could start from there or earlier when the relationship first develops.
four letter word
robbers & cowards