Hamwaffle

Posted: July 10, 2013 in Uncategorized

Sitting between two men, arguing over the morality of bringing a child into a world full of sinister intent, Jakob’s bony fingers rattled around the edges of his hot mug of coffee. The warm porcelain burned his fingertips slightly, making him even more ill at ease, adding to the sweat trembling down the creases of his forehead. Lucasz and Anton continued bickering, rising above the volume of the cafe as their voices boomed and shook like thunder in the light of dawn. Anton gripped a pepper shaker and turned it in his hand, priming his muscles it seemed to throw it at any moment. Jakob leaned back in his chair, a motion that would give most people the image of calmness, as if to say they had no hand in this argument, no concern for the squabble, but on him it looked as if he were plotting a dash out the front door the second things got any worse. He was nervous, not just for his usual temperament but because all he could think of was the poor girl who lived by the river that was secretly carrying his child. It unnerved him to even consider how he was already failing the infant.

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