LUCKY STAR
LUCKY STAR

The flickering neon sign of the "Lucky Star" cast a sickly green glow on the street. Outside, rain slicked the pavement, reflecting the warped light like a shattered mirror.

Inside, old man Henderson sat hunched over a steaming mug, his gaze fixed on the empty chair opposite him. Every few minutes, he’d glance at the door, then back to the chair, a small, hopeful twitch in his wrinkled face.

The clock above the counter ticked with an oppressive slowness. Henderson’s hand trembled slightly as he reached for the sugar.

He’d ordered two coffees, as always. The barista, a tired young woman named Chloe, didn’t even ask. She just poured the second, setting it down with a quiet clatter.

He pulled a worn photograph from his wallet – a young woman with a radiant smile, her arm linked through his. He traced her face with a gnarled finger, a faint sigh escaping his lips.

A chill draft snaked through the diner as the door opened. Henderson’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. A figure stood silhouetted against the wet night, hesitant.

The figure stepped inside, a shiver running down their spine. They paused, surveying the nearly empty diner. Henderson’s breath hitched.

He pushed the second coffee, still steaming, a fraction closer to the empty chair. The figure, seeing the gesture, offered a small, sad smile.

They didn't sit. Instead, they walked directly to the counter.

"Just a refill on hot water, please, Chloe,"

they murmured, their voice a low, raspy whisper. Chloe nodded, taking the empty thermos the figure held out. Henderson watched, his shoulders slumping. He looked at the untouched coffee, then at the photo, the young woman’s smile now seeming distant and cold.

"The usual spot, huh, Mr. Henderson?"

Chloe asked, as she refilled the thermos. The figure nodded, then turned to Henderson.

"She would have loved the rain tonight, wouldn't she?"

The old man didn't reply, just slowly reached for the second mug, gently pouring its contents into the thermos.

"Always for her flowers,"

he finally whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. The figure took the warmed thermos, gave a soft, understanding nod, and stepped back out into the endless rain.

© 2026 David Evdoshchenko