Fiction: Quaint cafe, rebel and the teenage girl

Inside the quaint cafe nestled in the old time sloppy rural village, the coffee brewed hot inside the black ceramic mug. The traditional cafe shop gave a wide angular view of the mountain, hills and bumpy road where smoke was lit and blew in the wooden space frequented by poets, writers, and rebels hiding from the cops to plan their next move. 

 The wooden table plonked on the mud outside was in a rustled state and munched by termites.  A lone cutting figure sporting an unkempt beard and long hair walked through and sat on the stool. He rolled the tobacco leaves on his rough palm and expertly filled it inside the transparent wrapper. The couple tightly holding to each other squeezing each other in the unchartered zone, a beggar asking for alms, gun totting men marching on the road separated by the forest and the pretty young thing wading sensually in the blood dress showing her cleavage occupied the quiet village life. He was unfazed by the distractions.

 He remained unaffected and smoked the joint, flipping the newspaper and uncorked the miniature bottle of imported whisky cupping the liquor on his lip. The young man admired the mountain’s edge and hilly slope with a smile that lit his face with subdued joy.

 A sudden rush shook him off the reverie. Bundles of bags were placed on the decrepit and shambled table. A svelte young woman pushed her braid and long hair with her flawless hand almost stumbled on the stool facing him. ‘What the fuck?” He couldn’t believe that someone just made him feel like a displaced human in his own world. The table was covered with fresh food package, mint, chocolate, garments and lipstick. 

 Placing a cigarette on the cusp of his lip, the young man lashed angrily at the pretty young thing dressed in blue denim and a white shirt. She unbuttoned the shirt and winked at him, using her charm to unearth what lies inside his mind. He remained unaffected to the coquettish gaze of the teenage girl verging on the steps of adulthood. “Don’t be rude. I traveled a long distance to follow you, my love,” she sensually said. She was caressing her shirt on top and slid her finger inside to press her breast.

 Bang! In the flicker of second, his eyes preened like a statue on her voluptuous boobs and she swiftly removed the gun and one shot point blank on his forehead.  She walked calmly out of the cafe and disappeared. The most fearful rebel to the British colony lost the war. They were celebrating his end. The British invaders chased him for a year and the trap laid by their soldiers was unsuccessful since he put a modicum of disguise. The teenage girl unabashedly used her womanly charm to bring him down.

Love
Vishal