The delicate tinkle of the bell surrounded the customers with a strong indication that the wind outside was growing stronger. Two burly truck drivers jumped up and slammed the door shut. One of the waitresses of the cafe rushed over with a two by four, which one of the truckers grabbed and stuck between the two handles. While one sat back down at his seat, the one that had grabbed the block of wood stared into the storm.It twisted inwards and over itself, a galaxy of dust within itself.
The sound of pouring coffee broke the silence next, and soon glasses clinking on tabletops followed as the customers became even more comfortable with the growing storm outside. The waitress glanced up ever so often, staring at the storm. It was hobbling towards them swiftly. A hand in the air caught her eye. She smiled at the man, finished topping off a mug of coffee, and moved from behind tha counter, past the fry cook who sat staring most transfixed upon the dust, and moved towards the couple at the end booth. She pulled a pencil out of her up-do and took the pad of paper from her waist. She scribbled down an order and moved over to the fry cook, giving him the sheet of paper.He looked at her with a wild look in his eyes before he realized she was giving him an order to fill out. He stuck up in a clip above the stove and started cooking.
When the atmosphere had finally reached a feeling of calmness, the doors began to shake, and the same truckers jumped out of their seat. The couple in the booth at the end were startled. The man was holding onto the woman's hand. The waitress put the coffee pot down on the counter, and went into the back room, searching for the keys to lock the door, but she felt she wouldn't be able to find them. The manager was out and he was the only one with them. The extra pairs were being made. The cafe was a relatively new endeavor for the owner.
Outside the dust storm rumbled, dragging thunderstorms along behind it. The flashes of lightning were visible for pixelated moments and then quickly scuttled out of sight. The womanin the booth at the end was tangibly nervous, but she hid it well. The fry cook turned from his position, done with the meals, and walked the steaming plates over to the two of them. He set them down ringing, staring at the man. The blond haired man stared up at him, unafraid of this fry cook with greasy hair and icy blue eyes. The waitress hurried from the back room carrying old metal chairs from before renovation. The truckers helped her barricade the doors. The nine people in the cafe continuously glanced out at the storm, which seemed to be closing in quickly.
The couple in the booth clutched one another's hands in a steely grip, fearful of letting go. The man knew what was going to happen and the woman had an inkling. Every since she had met him, which was awhile ago, she had felt that trouble followed him. But for some reason she didn't think this storm had anything to do with him.
The waitress placed the final chair in front of the two truckers who stacked them in a neat and hopefully strong formation. She went back over to the fry cook, who was attempting to set fire to the back of the blond man's head. She followed his gaze. Never had he been so angry before. She didn't recognize the blond haired man. Not the brunette woman either. But something about them was making her coworker angry. She didn't dare say anything. Talking wasn't always the answer. Sometimes watching was the only way to find the truth.
The three people at the counter were nervously sipping their coffee, watching the storm coming closer. Wind picked up pebbles and hurled them at the windows. Clinks and dinks and scratches echoed in the room making a cacophony of etherial noises, and sending tremors into one of the patron's hands. He was forced to put the coffee down. Dirt swirled around the building and outside was brown, a slew of mud, a river of dust that surely would overwhelm the old windows. Those hadn't been replaced quite yet with newer plexiglass ones. Rocks knocked on the windows, and those inside slunk away from the glass. The blond man and the woman stayed in their seat, telling others if they feared broken glass shattering before their faces to move towards the center of the cafe.The blond man told the woman it would be all right. She looked at him with deep understanding green eyes, and believed him.
The waitress and the fry cook were the only ones not near windows, so they stayed behind the counter, the fry cook still intently staring at the blond man. Hesaw the waitress watching him and turned towards her. He told her the blond man lookeda lot like someone he knew from a long time ago, but he knew it wasn't him. She took this as explanation enough, knowing when to leave something alone. The fluorescent lights flickered briefly, and then popped. They were left in the dark, staring at the murky brown gusts surrunding them.
The nine people in the cafe began to wait for the storm to pass over them and dissipate so they could resume their lives.