Mama Joe’s

“What can I do for you?” The words were simple enough, as was their meaning. It was a question asked many times before by the young and pretty shop attendant at Mama Joe’s Cake and Pastry Shop.

It was around seven o’clock, the earth had began pulling its dark star-spotted blanket over the sky. The little ants that scurried on its face prepared for another night. For most of the tiny creatures, this day would end like any other; but for the two current occupants of Mama Joe’s, it would be significant.

A young frazzled looking man, conspicuously wearing a heavy Jacket in the mild weather, stood in front of the counter. He would have probably been the last person to hear those words that day from the young lady behind the counter. A pink plastic tag pinned on her collar claimed her name was Margaret.

The question that had been asked by Margaret lingered in the air for a second, then another and another till it was carried away by the wind and had to be launched again. It was meant by Silence still.

“Sir?” Margret said after not getting a reply.

The young man was startled and reacted as if waking from a dream.

“Yes,” he answered sheepishly.

“What can I do for you?” those words again, now feeling ancient, “can I help you with something?” Margaret was being very patient with the young man. It was her nature, you had to be amiable to work in a cake shop she always thought.

The young customer found himself deeply contemplating the question. Could the lady help him with something? He doubted it, his problems couldn’t find their end at Mama Joe’s Cake and Pastry Shop. He would have had more luck at Mama Joe’s Dreams Fulfillment Shop. He was there only for a temporary solution to his one big problem.

He pulled out of his Jacket pocket the tool which he had carried. It was a small silver revolver pistol. He wondered why it felt so heavy in his hand as he lifted and pointed it at the now frightened face of young and pretty Margaret.

“Yes,” he said, surprisingly calmly, “put all the money-”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his statement. The quiet in Mama Joe’s was shattered by an unfortunate loud sound. The sound came from his tool, it had screamed. Immediately after the scream the back of Margaret’s head ruptured and sprayed her red blood all over the white wall behind her.

The young would be robber stared shocked at the freshly painted wall in front of him as Margaret disappeared behind the counter and greeted the ground. She lay there still, robbed of life.

The young murderer’s ears were ringing due to the unexpected, unfortunate sound. He had strayed a little and owed dangerous people money, but now he was completely lost. He put the smoking tool back in his pocket, turned around, walked out of Mama Joe’s and headed towards nowhere.



2 thoughts on “Mama Joe’s

  1. Alex says:

    Your stories read, or is it feel, like Frank Miller, pulp fiction, not sure that makes any sense. I’d love to make some deep and meaningful comment about the structure and the tension, all that intellectual stuff I don’t really understand so I won’t even try. I will say this, when the gun went off I jumped in my seat, that’s how caught up I was.

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