Bracken & Cobb

Bidding

Photo by Joseph Pearson on Unsplash

If he made a few more coffee cup rings on the white particle board thrift store night stand, he’d have a full ring of rings.

Gavin Ritter did just that, sliding the cup over to a farther part of the concentric ring. Why the hell not? Maybe he could sell it as some sort of craft art. 

He’d turn on his laptop. There would either be an answer to his bid proposal, or another apology for the delay.

He swore one more delay and he’d withdraw the proposal, knowing as he thought it he was lying to himself.

The top email was a sale on running shoes. His old running shoes, with less than forty miles on them, were in the corner under a broken rowing machine.

The third email down was from Bracken & Cobb.

The bid was rejected.

Gavin lifted his window open, the third floor winter breeze almost arctic, the air not even pausing at the sweatshirt from the school he didn’t bother graduating from.

He reached for the coffee, coffee he no longer wanted, and dumped it out the window.

Setting the cup down he buried his face in his hands and pulled them back like his face was flame, realizing he had dumped steaming liquid on a public sidewalk.

Gavin looked down.

Two kids were walking on his side of the street, bundled in parkas.

If he hit them, the parkas took any damage. He didn’t think he did.

There was a small stain in the dirty snow that he thought was his coffee.

The air was freezing now, truly freezing, and he was so mad, so disappointed, he felt like he deserved to be cold.

Gavin stomped back to the coffeemaker, poured himself another cup, turned off the warmer.

He set it on the nightstand, fuck the stupid ring art, fuck Bracken & Cobb, fuck was it cold.

He picked up the cup and dumped the hot coffee again.

He immediately looked down to make sure he didn’t hit anyone.

The wind blew some brown liquid back against the building, but there was a nice brown splat on the dirty snow about a car length from the first one.

A woman looked up from across the street, probably more shocked someone had a window open than someone dumped coffee.

Gavin flopped back in bed.

No point in doing anything.

He was freezing, but it felt right, like his failures deserved to make him cold.

He didn’t know how long he was awake, in bed, eyes closed, but when he got up to attempt to actually consume a cup of coffee, the coffee was cold.

It made sense.

Gavin thought about pouring the cold coffee out the open window and seeing if it would freeze on the way down.

Maybe he could make an internet video of beverages freezing before they hit the ground.

No one was on the street.

Everyone was either working or avoiding the cold.

He was doing neither.

Bracken & Cobb.

Rejection.

Seven months of his life.

He wondered what his heating bill was going to be.

Standing, biting the insides of both cheeks, he stomped back into the small kitchen area, and began the process of making another pot of coffee.

Lori and Will at Bracken & Cobb sent him this trippy alligator magnet that was on the fridge, holding an expired coupon.

Gavin backhanded it to the floor.

The apartment was so cold he could feel the heat pulsating from the coffeemaker.

He cracked his knuckles, rubbed his now chafed nipples, walked back in the bedroom and pushed the coffee stained nightstand and seven months of his life out the window.

***

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