Winter Night in the Old Town

A Short Story

It felt good to be back in the old neighborhood. Sure, it was winter, but anytime is a good time when you get to see friends you haven’t seen in years.

I left Ralph’s house a little after 8 o’clock. After a long day of talking, playing cards, and drinking, it was time to go. The streets were covered in snow, a path on the sidewalk cleared just wide enough to walk. The streetlamps glowing as they hung from the wires above.

Lights were on in the old, rickety houses that I passed by. Not yet late enough for people to go to bed, but late enough for them all to be settled in. There was a nice, peaceful silence as I walked briskly down the road.

I lit a cigarette as I walked. Thinking about old times and watching the smoke billow from my lips, I took my time because time alone was all I had for the rest of the evening.

Not ready to go back to the hotel, I wandered down an old alleyway. It was much darker here, no streetlamp to light the way. Old metal trash cans lined up next to each other on both sides of the alley made for a tight walking situation. That and all of the trash that littered the street. The windy conditions earlier must have leveled out the garbage in the cans and pushed it all onto the road.

I heard a rattling noise which jostled me out of my deep thoughts. I looked up to see a car parked at the end of the alley, puffs of greying smoke sputtering out of the tailpipe.

Gunshots rang out from somewhere down the road. I tucked myself in the shadows up against the wall, scrapping the tip of my cigarette against the brick to put it out.

I heard a woman’s voice scream out. Another round of shots was fired.

Silence.

A man shouted to someone else, “Get in the car. Let’s Go! Let’s Go!”

I looked to my left and saw two guys getting into the car. The back tires squealing against the wet, icy pavement as they drove away.

I’m not sure how long I stood, plastered against the wall in silence. The shock of what I just heard shaking me to my core.

Sirens sounded in the distance, getting louder as they approached the scene of the shooting.

I pushed off the wall and headed to my right. Lighting another cigarette, I took a long, deep drag, blew out the smoke and headed up East 8th Street to the nearest bar.

Sitting alone in my hotel room right now would only make me wonder what happened back there. Hell, it was going to consume my mind anyway, but at least at the bar I would be around people.

© Dave Logan 2024

Thank you for reading.