It was toasty in the diner. A warmth that seeped under skin and heated one’s core much like the effect of her steaming mug of coffee. But Ella was the type to be easily chilled so her oversized fleece lined leather jacket was still resting along her shoulders, arms tucked into her sides as her fingers wrapped around the cream colored mug. The steam from the mug wafted up through the foamy cream clouds floating atop its surface and straight into Ella’s nostrils as she inhaled deeply, submerging herself in the warm scent of hazelnut coffee.
The only other people in the diner were rest stop truckers, a few slumbering homeless folks savoring the free heat and one person she’d never seen before. He sat facing the kitchen atop a bar stool with most of his back towards her. He had strong shoulders. His back was straight like a person who hadn’t lived long enough yet to learn how to carry responsibilities on them or of curve they leave on your spine. The dark blue jeans he wore on his legs were slightly damp at the bottom where his loafers had done little to protect them against the snow he’d walked through. Unlike Ella, his coat rested to his side and the light gray knitted sweater he had on gave the sense of a motherly touch that Ella found intriguing. She followed his jawline that seemed sharp enough to cut glass, up to the right eye she could see from his profile, but could only make out long lashes that blinked lazily at the muted T.V. screen above them.
Ella wasn’t a shy girl so she continued to stare at the stranger, completely consumed by her curiosity and counting down the seconds until he returned it. 153 go by until he does. When he stood up and headed over to her booth her heart raced with excitement as she took in his now fully visible face. His eyes are green, she noticed as he took the seat across from her, long legs reaching past where her feet would be and all the way to her side underneath the table. His hair had gray flecks darting across a midnight scalp like stars and Ella was pleasantly surprised at the evident sign of his age. Her eyes flickered downward, dilating slightly at the sign of a ring.
She took a sip of her coffee and looked out the window once more. The stranger's eyes were still upon her but they were not heated with passion. To her they felt cool and observing like an ornithologist watching the mating habits of his prized specimen as the dance together about the aviary. The sound of chapped leather crackling filled her ears as the stranger shifted in his chair. Ella turned her eyes back to the stranger's hands and noticed the age wrapped in the wrinkles that cloaked them. She smiled at the sight, eyes once again flickering over to the flash of gold that was his wedding band. Her soft smile remained present on her face as she flicked her eyes up, gazing at the stranger before releasing the words that were sitting on her tongue.
“You’re married?” she asked the obvious question and the stranger responded with an obvious answer.
“Yes,” his voice made her shiver. The sound of tidal waves creeping up a shore. She nodded her head once, almost thoughtfully before asking another question.
“But you’re not going to be for much longer?” The stranger nodded his head, a small smile of his own playing on his lips as he rested his folded hands on the table.
“Infidelity?” Ella questioned. He shook his head no. That was a disappointment to her since it was always easier that way. Before she could ask another question he reached across the table and slowly removed her mug from her hands. She let it go easily enough, her fingers still curved around a ghost mug as her eyebrows arched in surprise at his audacity but also crinkled in confusion at what he was doing. It wasn’t until he brought the mug to his own lips and drank from it-all the while maintaining an almost, flirtatious eye contact like he was daring her to stop him-did she sink back an amused smile now resting on her face.
“If you were thirsty you could’ve ordered something,” she said softly. He shrugged slightly, merely a twitch of his shoulders.
“I wanted what you were having,” her smile widened at his comment. He sat the mug down and slid it back to her, her hands cupping themselves back around its shape. “And no,” he continued. “She didn’t cheat on me. But how I wish she did,”. Ella could feel her curiosity begin to grow in strength at this new comment but she abated her thirst for knowledge and instead took a drink from her mug as she formulated her next question.
“So I take it she didn’t die then?” Ella tried again. The stranger's face morphed into a childlike pout completed with the crossing of his arms.
“I wish she had!” he exclaimed in a disgruntled manner. Ella blinked, confused at this sudden personality change. Her curiosity was slowly turning into wary caution the more time she spent with this man. Ella opened her mouth to speak but the stranger held a finger to her lips, silencing her. He leaned in slowly, the leather seat cracking at his movement and an intoxicating scent of spice and wood wafted over towards Ella as he got closer. His eyes sparkled mischievously but his face was serious as he spoke. “Want to know a secret?”. Ella’s eyes were wide and unblinking but she still nodded yes, her curiosity winning over reason. The stranger smiled, his finger still on her mouth. “I’ve dreamed of it before,” he whispered. He leaned back then and Ella sat frozen, scared any sudden moves would set him off like the wild animal he appeared to be.
“I used my hands,” he began. Ella’s smile had long since slipped off her face in surprise. Not horror or fear, simply surprise. This seemed to please the stranger as he continued. “I strangled her to be exact. Stole the air from her lungs. They say it’s an experience quite similar to drowning. Just you know, without the water,” The stranger chuckled softly at his own joke as Ella simply watched. “ I don’t even remember what it was that we were arguing about. Just that I was so tired of hearing the incessant nonsensical shrieks she called reason and logic emitted from her mouth and before I knew it,” The stranger lifted his hands, wrapping them around a phantom throat. His eyes took on a far off dreamy quality. “I squeezed,” he continued as his hands mimed his words. “And I squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and then,” his hands were now clasped together in an interlocked fist. “There was silence,”.
The stranger finished his tale, hands slowly dropping back to the table and eyes refocusing on Ella as he awaited her reaction. Ella’s heart rate had steadily been increasing the entire time the stranger had told his story until she was sure he could hear it beating in her chest. But it wasn’t from fear. Once more it was from excitement. She reached across the table and grasped his hands in hers. She turned them over and over, tracing lines and patterns. The wrinkles, finding scars, signs of age, history and the past. Everything she loved was in his hands.
So these are the hands of an aspiring murderer, she thought. Why are are they so warm?
“Are you scared?” the stranger asked, suddenly interlocking her fingers with hers. Ella looked up once before shaking her head.
“No.” The stranger stared at her for a moment the way a scientist stares at an insect, inspecting it for faults. Then he released her hands and returned his gaze out the window to where the darkness had nearly receded and the early pinks and blues of a budding sunrise could be seen.
“You should be.”