Top Head by Denis Vinnik

I was sitting in the diner, drinking coffee,

my laptop keeping me company. The deadline was closing in and there was a high that I wouldn’t be able to make it in time, but still, my mind drifted away, as it always does. That’s when I heard a bell above the door ring. A young gentlemen came through the door, drenched to the skin, since the weather was dreadful. Irritated, he walked up to the counter and ordered his “usual”.

-Does he often visit this diner? - I thought to myself, since I couldn’t remember seeing his face before. I’d lived in this town all my life, and this café was my go-to spot whenever I needed a place to work. That’s when I noticed that his attire was quite bizarre. He looked like he was from overseas, or perhaps another era, which made the encounter all the strangers. He was wearing a brown business suit with a blood-red tie that tightly held his neck as if it were the only thing that held his head to his shoulders. What made him stand out was his black top head that in its height reached for the heavens. Even though he didn’t wear it at the time, but still, I could tell that he preferred wearing a monocle, a big circle around his left eye giving away his dark secrets. T That’s when I realized he had started arguing with the barista. My keen ear caught words like “out off” and “cream” that came out of the café worker’s mouth. This made the strange fellow blow up into a fit of anger like I’d never seen before. He shouted at the cashier, his saliva covering the poor guy from his toes to his odd little work hat. As he was destroying his voice, a suitcase he was holding tight in his grip slipped out, falling to the cold ground, popping open only to reveal stacks upon stacks of money. A moment of silence flooded the café, all chit-chat coming to a halt.

Suddenly, another person entered the restaurant. Not a second later, a single bang came from the barrel of the newcomer’s M9 pistol. Just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. Despite the screams around me, I sat there, completely mute. Silent. I couldn’t process everything that just transpired. Now, I’ll have to work overtime to afford therapy, I guess.