Point, Convict, Ground

3 things to inspire 1 story written in 20 minutes. #story320
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He kept his head phones and pushed up his glasses. Flakes of skin drifted into the table next to his stack of fantasy and science fiction books, as he scratched the patch of eczema on his elbow.

A motorcycle roared up to the front of the coffee shop. The rider revved the engine a few times before hopping off. Taking off the helmet, he revealed a face full of tattoos.

Easy rider took out a cigarette, lit it and after two puffs without inhaling dropped it to the ground and ground it into the concrete with the heel of his boot.

Headphones and eczema watched, hearing a young couple at the table next to his say something about a “convict” or “ex-con.”

Easy rider walked into the coffee shop and came out with a very pale coffee drink to which he was adding many packets of sweet-n-low.

Looking over at eczema, easy rider pointed right at him.

“What are you listening to?”

“The sound of silence.”

“Simon and Garf–“

“–No,” interrupted headphones, “I’m listening only to the sounds of silence or the muffled sound of the noises you all make.”

Easy rider looked away and took a sip of his coffee. Suddenly, the hot beverage was all over his face and dripping down his leather jacket. He turned just in time to catch eczema swing a mug of hot, black coffee right at his face. There was nothing for him after that.

Eczema looked up at the young couple and pointed down at easy rider.

“Convict.” He said, as if explaining away a minor, slightly embarrassing problem to curious strangers in a public space.