When the silence washes over her, so do the nightmares…
Deliah needs some peace. And noise. She loves her job in the morgue. Most of the time. But when that specific silence descends, the images fill her mind. Sometimes she manages. Sometimes those last thoughts of the dead haunt her.
Getting out among people keeps the nightmares at bay. And the café with its excellent tea and busy, buzzy atmosphere seems a perfect place to rest, for just a little while. All that noise, all those voices, for some people that might represent chaos. For Deliah, people watching and noisy conversations keep her mind quiet. Restful.
Usually.
Until the nightmares find her.
DELIAH AT THE CAFE is available to read for free until the 15th of June, when another story will be posted. For readers who would prefer to read on a device of preference, or who would like their own personal eBook of this story, you can find it here.
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Deliah at the Café
A Café Story
Deliah sipped her tea. An excellent blend that had hints of cinnamon and ginger behind the mild rooibos base. According to the older woman sitting in the center of the café reading a book of erotic poetry, the tea was a house blend, and the teas here at this café were always excellent. Deliah appreciated a good tea. They could be hard to find. Especially in a public restaurant. Most especially in a place that seemed more focused on coffee.
Deliah hated coffee. On principle if not on actual taste. She didn’t begrudge other people their love of coffee. But she was always surprised how often coffee eclipsed tea in places that served both.
The café around her was as warm and cozy as her tea. Which was nice. The soothing sounds of conversation, some loud but mostly just a quiet murmur. The young man up near the front playing his guitar, quietly, and really just for himself and the café’s resident cat. But Deliah enjoyed the music. People moved between the café and the attached bookstore often, both businesses busy today.
She thought about that for a moment. It wasn’t a weekend. She hadn’t lost that much track of time. It was a rather random Tuesday. But it was chilly outside so maybe that lured people inside to cozy spaces. Winter was approaching, though not quite here yet, and the breeze when it hit the street was sharp and cold.
Deliah’s coat hung on the arm of the cushioned chair she’d chosen near the back of the café. She hadn’t planned on settling in with her tea for this long. She’d only been looking for a temporary respite. But the flavors and the sounds soothed her and she found herself choosing a cozy nook in the back with a deep, cushioned chair rather than one of the tables and wooden chairs in the center. That had been an hour ago. She was on her second tea. She’d tried the chocolate muffins and sank deeper into her seat with the pleasure of all that rich chocolate exploding on her tongue, but the muffin not so sweet it might as well just be topped with frosting and called a cupcake.
She had opinions on the fine line between muffin and cupcake, but had no one here to regale with those opinions so she kept them to herself. The writer sitting at a table not too far from her, his face in is computer, typing, pausing, typing again, probably didn’t care to hear her muffin-cupcake diatribe. She wondered what he as writing. Fiction or non-fiction, a mystery, a romance, science fiction?
She couldn’t take a mystery or crime novel at the moment, but a nice science fiction book sounded good. Something completely different from her daily life. Maybe she’d wander into the bookstore after finishing her second tea. She glanced down at the mug, nearing empty, what was left starting to cool a little too much because she was stalling. Maybe she’d have a third cup first.
Because yes, she was stalling. Stalling big time. And she wasn’t ready to get up and leave just yet. Even if “leaving” meant going next door to peruse the bookshelves. That felt too close to “leaving soon,” and she really didn’t want to leave yet.
The café felt peaceful. More peaceful than it should have considering the many people moving in and out. The ringing bell over the door. The chatter. The clacking of the writer’s keyboard keys. The guitar playing across the room. The noise was a sort of mediation for her rather than an annoyance.
And really, the tea was excellent.
It was remarkable, really, just how all that noise could feel comforting. Being among humanity. She worked in a morgue, and the silence there could be peaceful. A little sad sometimes. But she took purpose in ensuring people received good care after their passing. She liked her job because of the quiet. And because of the dignity she could provide. But sometimes…
Well, some days were hard. Some deaths were painful to see.
And that was worse when the spirit of the dead person decided to use Deliah’s psychic mind to shoot a last picture of their life, and death, into her head.
She had no idea how the spirits managed that because she wasn’t a medium. She didn’t talk to the dead. The reason she didn’t mind being around dead people was because she didn’t have to worry about accidentally overhearing their thoughts. Her psychic skills lay in occasionally overhearing people’s thoughts. And of course, dead people didn’t have thoughts anymore.
When she’d picked her line of work, though, she hadn’t anticipated that some dead people might have spirits that lingered a little longer, because of the circumstances of their death, and that Deliah would be able to read those last thoughts. Or have them forced on her by the spirit.
Actually, she’d never been entirely sure how it worked. She’d consulted with a few psychics and even a medium or two over the years. But most of the people she’d found to ask questions of were just charlatans and not real psychics. And when she’d explained that she was a real psychic, they were very dismissive and doubtful. Right up until she told them what they were thinking.
The one medium who was legit didn’t have answers for Deliah, though. And she was very apologetic about it, to be fair. She was a nice woman who wanted to help, but had never encountered anything like what Deliah described and had suggested maybe Deliah was a medium without knowing it.
But Deliah knew better. Because she knew what she was and what she could do and what didn’t happen with most dead people. The silence that accompanied the dead was just…silence. Nothing came after.
Unlike when she accidentally read living people. When the silence descended and then the thoughts of one person burst into her brain in all their color and light and dark and chaos. Some people’s thought churned and jumped and gamboled about like a whitewater river. Some people’s thoughts were steady and focused. The people who didn’t have much on their mind… Well, if there were people like that, Deliah had never had the opportunity to read their thoughts.
She didn’t control the process. It was very random. And she could never be entirely sure when it would happen.
After it happened, though, she usually had several days of peace where she didn’t have to worry. She could stretch that out for months if she was careful. Careful meant either being in her morgue, or being in crowds. Being with one individual person, alone, was more likely to open up the connection.
Hell on her dating life. But she managed.
She’d had a very difficult body come through the morgue just a few days ago. The woman’s corpse had been in not great shape. And unfortunately, this was one of those deaths. The details that had flooded Deliah’s mind were still giving her nightmares. Not a natural death. Not a death anyone should experience. When she’d quietly asked her boss what had happened, her boss had said the case was still under investigation, and left it at that. But Deliah had seen the haunted look in her boss’s eyes. Someone killed violently like that… It was hard to look at, for anyone with an ounce of compassion.
Deliah had done her best for the dead woman, and stood witness to her family’s grief. But that hadn’t eased the nightmares. Deliah didn’t have the buffer of only suspecting what had happened. She knew what had happened. Seen it through the woman’s eyes. The pain and fear and torment had been so overwhelming, Deliah even felt a little of that residual pain herself. Which…didn’t normally happen.
Being in her quiet home wasn’t helping. The morgue, usually a calm place for her, just raised the memories again. So she’d taken herself to someplace public where she hoped she’d be able to relax and not think too much for a while.
And the café had been there. Cozy. Busy. Filled with lovely smells and excellent tea and a lot of movement and ordinary conversation and chatter and noise. She could sit listening to that noise for another couple of hours. And then linger in the noise of the bookstore for another few hours after that.
Eventually, she’d have to leave. They’d close up for the night. But there was just something about the place. Like a buffer of peace had been lowered over her head, soothing and quieting the memories, keeping her brain as undisturbed as it every got.
Maybe one more tea. She wasn’t working today. She didn’t have to go anywhere. Being alone triggered the horrific memories of her vision. Being here kept them at bay. And while it was busy, no one seemed to be pressuring her to leave. Yes. One more excellent cup of tea. And maybe another pastry. Something lighter and fluffy this time like a croissant. Those looked good, their flaky crusts glistening under the gentle overhead lights.
Before she could stand to go to the counter, though, the nice woman who’d been manning the register and espresso machine came over. Her name tag said her name was Nina.
“Can I get you anything else?” Nina asked as she efficiently swept away Deliah’s now empty muffin plate.
“Another tea please. And a croissant. The tea is really wonderful.”
Nina grinned. “Thanks. I have to stay on top of my tea game to keep up with Agnes’s picky demands.” She nodded to the woman reading the book of erotic poetry, the one who’d recommended the tea to Deliah.
The older woman’s mouth worked a little, then pursed into a prime line. To Deliah it looked like she was trying to suppress a grin, but maybe that was a scowl? Nina just chuckled and faced Deliah again. “Another cup of tea and a croissant coming right up.” She paused for a moment, a little V forming between her brows.
Deliah waited for the question, because it looked like Nina wanted to ask her something. Instead, she gave her head a little shake, the smile returned and she added Deliah’s now empty tea cup to the plate as she swept away the old dishes.
“Be right back,” she said, and wove through the tables back to the counter.
Curiosity had Deliah considering Nina, wondering what she’d intended on asking.
One of the many problems with her kind of psychic ability was that it wasn’t in her control. If she wanted to read someone’s mind, she couldn’t. Mostly, that was fine. Good even. She really didn’t want to know what other people were thinking most of the time. But on those rare moments when she wouldn’t have minded, her brain remained blessedly empty of other people’s memories and thoughts, filled only with her own.
Probably for the best. She’d come here hoping to avoid accidentally opening to someone else’s thoughts even as she escaped the dark memories still haunting her.
She let her gaze scan over the other occupants of the café as she waited, letting her mind drift. She wasn’t paying attention to anyone in particular, just letting the noise and movement play out around her without focusing in on any one thing. So it took her several moments before she even realized her gaze had settled on a couple across the room, near the front of the café. When she did realize she was staring at them, she shifted her gaze a little so she wouldn’t get caught staring.
But something about them drew her attention back. She watched them from the corner of her eye for a bit. They seemed to be on a date. Maybe a first or second date because there was still some distance between them. At least from the woman. The man leaned on the little round wooden table. The woman sat back in her seat, her mug cradled in her hands. She never set the mug down on the table, or moved so that she’d be closer to the man.
He was smiling at her, and while they were all the way across the room so it was hard to tell, he had that intense stare that some people had. That one that was so focused it made you want to squirm and fidget. The woman’s expression looked more fixed. A polite smile, but her gaze moved around a lot, only briefly landing on the man before moving away again.
Nina brought Deliah her croissant and tea while Deliah was still watching the couple while also trying not to look like she was watching the couple.
Nina glanced their way, then snorted. “Yeah. That date is not going well from her perspective.”
Deliah let out a relieved huff. “Right? I was thinking the same thing. He’s not getting another after this. Wonder what he’s saying that has her so annoyed.”
“He’s talking about his travels and boasting about his money.” Nina rolled her eyes. “He’d be making more headway if he focused on the travel and asked his date if she even liked to travel.”
“Some people aren’t meant to be,” Deliah said.
Nina nodded, sighed, and then brightened. “Need anything else?”
“No, this is perfect. Thanks.”
“Enjoy.”
Nina stopped at Agnes’s table on the way back to the counter and the two women chatted for a moment before Nina went back behind the register. The giant pale gray Maine Coon cat that had been sitting with the guitar player jumped off the chair armrest next to the guitar player and went to the stool beside the register. The stool looked entirely too small for a cat that size, but somehow he managed to fit. He sat, with his tale wrapped around his legs and Nina leaned on the counter next to him, saying something to him.
Deliah wasn’t an animal person but she thought it was funny the way people talked to their pets like they could talk back.
Both Nina and the cat were keeping an eye on the couple on their maybe first but definitely last date. Which reassured Deliah for reasons she couldn’t have explained. Just that it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the woman was uncomfortable.
In fact, Deliah realized several people in the café, including Agnes the tea drinker, were paying attention to the couple. For some reason, that made Deliah really happy, knowing the people in the café were looking out for the woman. Neither the man nor woman on the date seemed to notice. But the attention to them gave Deliah this really nice sense of community that she rarely felt because she had to keep herself away from people most of the time.
She’d finished her croissant and was considering another tea when the man tapped the table and stood, heading to the bathroom. The woman rolled her eyes the minute he was gone and turned her attention out the large windows that made up the front of the café. Deliah smiled into her mug. Yeah, there wouldn’t be a second date there.
A man from another table, a man Deliah hadn’t noticed, stood then and walked up to the woman. He was a really handsome man, pale brown hair, nicely dressed in dark slacks and a button-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had that sort of classic European handsomeness, smooth and unconcerned.
He stopped by the woman’s table and made a comment. The woman chuckled and nodded. He glanced toward the bathroom, then pulled a card out of his pocket, set it on the table, said something else. The woman smiled in a sort of flirty way and nodded, picking up the card.
And silence descended, filling Deliah’s ears, blocking out everything that was going on in the café. A silence that made her stomach drop. Her vision tunneled, narrowed, everything stretching out in front of her until all she could see was a narrow point of light.
And then images filled her mind.
Horrible images. Choking images. Filled with blood. Laughter. Screams. A shattering satisfaction. A lust that made Deliah want to throw up. But more than the horror, more than the disgusting images pouring into her brain of torture, torment, death. All of it was…
Familiar.
Deliah blinked hard trying to see reality around the horrific things filling her head. She came out of the vision with her hand gripping the cushioned chair’s armrests so hard she might have ripped the soft leather. Her cup had fallen into her lap and the last of the tea spilled onto her jeans. She ignored that as she stared at the handsome man talking to the woman on the bad date. He smiled at the woman, and Deliah’s gut tightened.
Him. He was the one. The one responsible for the poor dead woman in her morgue who’s last memories haunted Deliah’s nightmares.
She was so shocked, so overwhelmed by what she’d seen in his head and how they mixed with the images from the dead woman that she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even pick up the mug that had fallen into her lap.
Nina was at her side before she could even ease her grip on the armrests. The man smiled one last time at the woman and then left the café. The woman watched him go, smiling to herself, then she glanced down at the card he’d given her. The man she was on the date with came out of the bathroom then, and she glanced at him and sighed visibly.
As all this happened, Nina was murmuring something to Deliah but she couldn’t hear any of what was being said for a long moment. Finally, it sunk in. Nina asking if she was okay? Dropping a towel onto her lap. Asking if she needed a doctor or medical assistance.
Deliah gave her head a hard shake. Then stood and went to the couple on the bad date just as the man sat down.
She leaned in close to the woman and said, “Don’t call that man who gave you the card. Burn the card. Never speak to him. Don’t have anything to do with him.”
The woman frowned up at her.
The man said, “Who are you? What’s going on?”
Deliah ignored him to say to the woman, “This date is boring but that man who just walked out… He’s dangerous.” She lowered her voice. “Very very dangerous. Please. Don’t call him. Don’t use that card. Burn it.”
“What the fuck is she talking about?” the man said to his date, who also ignored him.
“He…didn’t seem dangerous.”
“He prays on women. Finds them when they’re vulnerable, like when they’re on a bad date.”
“Hey! This isn’t a bad date,” the man said.
Deliah didn’t even pause. “Then he suggests he could give them a more pleasant evening and drops his card. Makes them feel safe because they choose to call him. But he’s not safe. Not even a little bit. Please. Don’t call him. Forget you ever saw him.”
“How do you know all this?” the woman asked.
“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me because I’m a stranger. I can’t really explain. But…trust me.”
The woman frowned. Looked down at the card.
“What the hell is going on?” the man said, standing now. “Who are you?”
Deliah glanced at him. “You were never getting a second date anyway. If you couldn’t tell that, you don’t deserve her. Everyone else in the café could tell you were boring her to tears. Learn to listen more than talk. You’ll do better on your next date.” She turned back to the woman. “Please. Please don’t call that man.”
The woman glanced between Deliah and the card and the man she was supposed to be on a date with, then folded the card in half and dropped it on the table. “I think I need a break from dating anyway.”
Deliah’s knees nearly gave out from under her. She set a hand to the table to keep her balance. Then let out a long breath. “Do you mind if I take the card? I think maybe the police should know this man’s name.”
“You told me to burn it.”
“If you’re not going to use it, passing it to the police might save lives.”
The woman’s eyes widened but she nodded.
Deliah looked around for a napkin or something she could use to pick up the card. She was surprised to find Nina standing next to her handing her a paper napkin and holding out a Ziplock sandwich bag. Deliah blinked at the woman but didn’t ask questions. She picked up the card with the towel and dropped it into the baggie. Nina gave her a serious look and a nod.
Swallowing, Deliah said to the woman, “The police might be in touch because your prints are on this card, but that man’s prints are on here too and… And this could really help.”
“Are you a cop?” the woman asked.
Deliah shook her head. “No. I work in the morgue.”
“Gross,” the man who was such a bad date said.
Everyone continued to ignore him.
“I know some police officers who will be interested in this man’s identity,” Deliah said.
The woman swallowed and her hands shook when she pressed them into the table and stood.
Deliah straightened too, holding the sealed sandwich bag delicately between her fingertips mostly because she didn’t want to touch something that man, that killer, had touched.
The woman looked at the man she was supposed to be on a date with and said, “She’s right. Listen more than talk and you’ll have better luck on your next date. It was nice to meet you.” To Deliah she said, “I think I owe you a huge debt of gratitude, though I’m not entirely sure why.”
Deliah shook her head. “So long as you don’t go anywhere near that man again, that’s more than enough.”
The woman nodded. She pulled her purse off the back of her chair and dropped the long strap over her shoulder. To Nina, she said, “This is a really nice café, despite…whatever this was.”
“Thank you. And for the record, that man will never be here again. If you decide you want to come back, you’ll be safe here.” Nina reached out and shook the woman’s hand, holding it for a beat before letting her go.
The woman smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I would be safe here.” She left without saying anything more to her date, looking a little bemused.
“Will she be okay?” Deliah murmured, to herself but also to Nina.
“She’ll be fine,” Nina said. “I made sure.”
The man looked between them, scowling. “Everyone here is crazy. I’m out of here. And I will never come back to this café again!”
“Good,” Agnes said from her table, her back to them all. “You are so tedious.”
The man snarled at the back of Agnes’s head then spun around and left, slamming out the café door and making the overhead bell ring sharply.
By the time the bell stopped ringing, Nina had righted the chairs around the table and pushed them back into place. Then as she collected the mugs, she said, “May I ask you something quietly?”
Deliah looked around. A few people were looking at them, but most everyone shrugged and went back to their business.
Deliah felt like she owned Nina some sort of explanation since she’d just made such a scene. Especially since Nina had had her back rather than demanding she leave. She followed Nina back to the counter. The cat on his stool licked his paw and blinked at her but that was his only reaction.
Once Nina had set the bussed mugs into a tray on the back counter, she returned to the register and said quietly, “I’m not going to ask how you knew that man was dangerous or a killer. But I wanted you to know that I believe you. That he won’t be allowed back. And that if you need any support or backup with the police, I can help.” She nodded up to a corner of the café. “There’s a camera there. I’ll save the footage with his image on it.”
Deliah didn’t know what to say. She was overwhelmed with the idea that someone believed her ranting without even demanding to know how she knew what she knew. There was no suspicion or even questions. No explanation required.
And that made her feel, weirdly, like she could explain. “I’m not sure how you’ll keep the man away. But it would be good if he was kept out. He’ll use this place as a hunting ground otherwise.”
“He won’t even remember he was here, and he’ll be…uncomfortable with the idea of coming in if he does pass our door again.”
“How…?” She shook her head.
Nina winked. “Just a little spell.” She lowered her voice. “Again, you don’t have to explain, but you should know that here… You’re in good company. The kind of company that wouldn’t think twice about having, say, a psychic in their midst. For example.” Nina shrugged. “Just saying.”
Deliah had no idea how to respond to that. She looked around the café again, bemused and bewildered. Agnes, without looking up from her book, raised her cup of tea in a little solute toward Deliah. Deliah let out a loud breath that fluttered the hair on her forehead. Then she looked back at Nina.
Nina smiled. “It’s okay. We don’t have to say anything out loud. Just know you’re welcome. And that I’m grateful for what you did for that woman. And if you do decide to come back, you have a permanent discount here now. The friends and family discount.”
“Friends, huh?” Deliah could use some of those. She spent so much time alone to avoid what had just happened. But maybe here, maybe it wouldn’t happen so often. Especially if what Nina was implying about herself was true.
Deliah didn’t want to get her hopes up. She had felt very comfortable here. And there seemed to be at least two people in the café who weren’t freaked out about the way she acted. So…
Yeah. Maybe she could return. And maybe she could find friends here. She gave Nina a little nod. Surprised, after that vision, that she ever wanted to be in this place again. But something about the café felt…safe.
So yeah. She’d be back.
But first, she had to make sure a serial killer was caught. That, she thought. That might just put an end to the nightmares.
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Thanks for reading DELIAH AT THE CAFE. I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like your own personal eBook copy of this story, you can find it for sale here. You can also peruse the previous Café stories that are individually available for sale here.
And don’t forget to check back on June 15th for the next Free story from The Café!
DELIAH AT THE CAFE Copyright © 2026 Kat Simons
All Rights Reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.