Wordsmiths Fiction Week 2: Season 24 – The Envelope
Greetings friends!
Hey all and welcome back to another session of the Steemit Fiction Challenge – Season 24, Week 2!
Diego was never the dramatic type. His definition of excitement was spotting a raccoon swiping chips from the snack aisle or handling a semi-awake consumer yelling about old coffee.
Night shifts, at the 24-hour gas station were quiet, mundane, and routine.
Until the seventh night.
It started harmlessly enough. A rust-colored sedan came in at 2:17 a.m. – the kind of old car that usually belongs in a junkyard. The headlights stayed on casting long shadows through the glass doors. The driver just sat there frozen. No horn. No movement. No emotion. Then, just as quickly as it arrived, the car took off.
Diego shrugged it off.
But when it happened again the following night, at the same hour, same car, same, still silent star—his nervousness increased.
“Screwdriver for sure just playing games” he thought making himself chuckle. But even the palming of the ceiling lights sounded louder. He informed his superior, who just grunted between sips of cold coffee. “People are weird.”
By the third night, Diego dreaded 2:17 a.m.
He would stare more at the clock than the register. His hand rested next to the baseball bat stashed behind the counter. Again, the sedan came. And again, it stared. Not just at the store. At him.
Diego chose that night, the fourth day. He stepped outside. The night air was cold. The parking lot was quiet.
But the car was gone.
Mad, he returned inside, grumbling curses. He circled to the side of the station to dispose of the trash and—
There it was.
A white envelope, partially concealed behind ice machine.
His name—“DIEGO” printed in perfect block letters.
He looked around. No one.
Using trembling fingers, he opened it. Inside was a photo.
A young boy. Barely six. Standing in front of a countoured yellow house. Diego recognized that face. Not because it was his. But it was on account of being, his little brother, Elias. The one who had gone missing twelve years previous.
Heart pounding, Diego turned the photo.
“Meet me tomorrow. Same time. No police.”
That night, Diego couldn’t sleep. Memories came rushing—how Elias had disappeared while they were playing outside. how Diego had only looked away for a fraction of time. How guilt had gnawed inside him all these years. And now... a rogue in a rusting car was in some way tied in?
At 2: 17 a.m., Diego was outside waiting. The car drove in. Same rusted blue. However, this time the driver emerged.
An older man, obscured by hood.
Diego nodded.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The man lowered his hood. His was a tired face, heavy eyes. But there was something familiar about him though. Not as a stranger. But as a memory.
I find your brother,"the man said. “Years ago. In a shelter. He never spoke. Just stared out windows. One evening he spoke a name—Diego. I helped him remember. But... it was too late.”
Tears welled up. “Too late?”
“He died two years ago. But before he was gone, he asked that I find him; you. He told you to forgive yourself. Said it wasn’t your fault.”
Diego couldn’t breathe.
“I tried to find you. I had nothing but a name and a picture to start with. Finally located you.”
The man passed over another envelope. I opened and found a drawing—a crayon portrait of two boys playing in front of a yellow house.
Below it:
"TELL Diego of waiting on him for every Doulnie."
The man returned to his vehicle. “He has forgiven you a long time before you forgave yourself”.
Then he was gone.
The next night, 2:17 came. No car. No man. No fear.
Just peace.
And a picture still, one mass on the wall of the gas station—a photograph— two brothers, smiling under the sun
Regards,
artist1111