Erik Bilicki's Short Stories, Novelettes, and Novellas

  Last Call By Erik Bilicki "One more round," Jim announced, drumming a tattoo on the counter with the kind of certainty that comes from years of balancing ledgers in a fast-paced Wall Street firm. The echo of his declaration rippled through the cozy confines of the Commuter Café, our citadel housing evening rituals. The Coca-Cola clock blinked, its red digits carving out a date that would soon etch itself indelibly in history: 09-10-01. Yet for now, it held no more significance for us than any other. It was Monday, and our routines, as unyielding as the gridiron layout of Manhattan, held us captive within this charming den of granite and timeworn charm. Our spirited conversation reverberated off the café’s sandy walls, intermingling with the steady thrum of the PATH train below—our steadfast soundtrack. David, however, was off-key in our nightly harmony. The mystery of his life, normally a source of light-hearted banter, now hung in the air like a curtain of fog. Despi...