Finally! I was doing it. I was dining in the dark, an experience designed to enhance your senses as you enjoyed a meal in a pitch-black restaurant. I wouldn’t even see my hands in front of me. I would not only be able to hear everything, but blocking out the world would allow me to truly taste and appreciate the textures and aromas of the food.
+++++It had been on my bucket list for a while, and I was finally about to check it off. I had done so many things on my solo travels but this was a first. I was excited and a little nervous, but that was part of the thrill wasn’t it?
+++++I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before stepping into the restaurant. “Are you Tiffany, with a reservation for one?” the hostess asked with a bright smile.
+++++“Yes,” I replied. “Great, I’ll take you into the dining room shortly. From there on, everything will be in complete darkness. You’ll hold onto my shoulders as I guide you to your table. Your waiter will then come to take your drink and later bring your three courses. After the meal, we’ll reveal what you consumed. If you need to use the restroom, just let your waiter know. Are you ready?” “Yes,” I said before being led into the darkest room I’d ever experienced.
+++++The first thing I notice is how quiet it is. Am I the only one here? I thought there would at least be others in the space.
+++++“Hello, I’m James. I’ll be your waiter this evening. What’s your name?” Where did he come from? You’d think with heightened senses I would have heard him enter. “Hi, I’m Tiffany,” I reply, slightly surprised by how easily I missed him coming in. “Is anyone else dining today?” I ask. “Later,” he says, “but right now it’s just you.”
+++++“Table for one? Are you alone?” he asks. I briefly think about lying. I don’t. “Yes,” I reply. “Where are you from?” “I’m from the States,” I say. “Oh, wow. You’ve come a long way,” he replies with a smile in his voice. “I get that a lot,” I say.
+++++“May I start you off with a drink?” he asks. “We have a popular house-made sangria and cucumber mint mojito, along with various wines, cocktails, beers, and of course, your typical soft drinks.” Ooh, a house-made sangria. Don’t dull your senses, I hear my mother say. “I’ll take the Sprite,” I reply.
+++++After taking my drink order, he leaves. That’s when the quiet really settles in. It’s quiet here. Too quiet, I think. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.
+++++“Here’s your drink,” the waiter says, setting it on the table. How the hell does he keep doing that? I wonder.
+++++“Thanks,” I say, but my chest tightens. You know if he tried to attack you, you wouldn’t see it coming. I slap the thought away, as I take a sip of my Sprite. The bubbles feel especially sharp, tickling my tongue and throat as the cold liquid goes down. I’m kind of jumpy today. Damn, if I’m this jumpy now, imagine if I had gotten the liquor, I chuckle softly to myself.
+++++I sit back, enjoying my Sprite until I hear it, a sound that suggests someone has entered the room. I wait for my waiter to say something, but nothing. No one says anything. Am I alone? I wonder. No, I sense someone in the room with me. Someone bumps my table. “Sorry,” my waiter says. “I’m still getting used to this.” I feel him leave, and my grip on the butter knife eases a little.
+++++It’s a long time before anything happens. It’s silent. Still, I wait in the darkness, listening to the hum of the air conditioning and the gentle clink of silverware somewhere in the distance.
+++++They sure are taking a long time, I think. What are they doing? Should I call out? No, weirdo, that would look crazy. They’re probably just preparing the food. But… wasn’t the waiter a little intrusive?, I think. If he wasn’t evaluating me, why would he ask if I was alone? Why would he ask where I was from? Why be so… invasive?
+++++I’m overreacting, right? I’m just in a restaurant, right? Wrong. I am alone in a pitch-black restaurant. I can’t see my hand in front of my face or hear any other patrons in the room. I am utterly, foolishly, and senselessly alone. And worse, I told the waiter that I am.
+++++Is this the end? I try to push the thought away. Even worse than the likelihood of my impending death is the annoying realization of my mom’s likely reaction.
+++++Her warnings about my solo traveling were finally going to come true. Even worse, she was about to get what she always wanted: to be right.
+++++Every horror story she’s ever sent flashes across my mind: “Man missing while traveling, family fears no return.” “Woman found in bathtub with no kidneys.”
+++++I roll my eyes. It was always missing kidneys or no return. OH MY GOD, would that be me? Would I be the next headline… “Lady found with no liver”? Damn, I hope they use a good picture of me.
+++++I began to sweat. Ok, what can I do? I know what I can’t do: make a call, because I broke my number two travel rule: always get a SIM. Damn girl, you really messed up this time. Don’t panic. Breathe.
+++++What THE HELL were you thinking? Okay, thoughts, shut up. If you’re not going to be constructive, at least be quiet. YOU’RE IN A RESTAURANT NOT A HOSTEL, I scream internally.
+++++This calms me a little but then I feel it. Stay calm. No, there’s a shift. Something is behind me. Then, I heard it. A soft scrape. I freeze. Is that metal? My ears perk up. I hold my breath. My butter knife digs into my palm as my chair scrapes back an inch. He’s close. Too close. And I didn’t hear him walk up again. Oh no, this is how it ends. I am NOT dying here. “Are you ready for your first—”
+++++“BACK UP,” I scream, practically launching myself out of my chair, practically knocking over the table. I need to get away, before—-
+++++“Ma’am—wait—” the waiter replies, startled. He reaches out as I jump back, out of his reach. Before he can react, I do. Without thinking, I shove him aside, trying my hardest to escape.
+++++The sound of shattering plates is deafening, as we both stumble then tumble to the floor. I scream as my arms flail, searching for something to protect me. My fingers close around a jagged piece of plate. He moves toward me. Without thinking, my hand darts out. I freeze, stunned, as blood begins to pour down my hands. What have I done?
+++++The lights come on suddenly. My eyes adjust to the scene before me.
+++++To my horror, the waiter lies dead on the floor, blood pouring from his chest.
+++++Good news, Mom… I lived. Bad news…I… lived.

[Image Credit : Photo by Mathew MacQuarrie on Unsplash]

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E. Allen Foxx

E. Allen Foxx writes psychologically dark short fiction that explores power, fear, and gender dynamics. A lifelong avid reader, this is their second foray into fiction writing. When not depicting characters making questionable choices, they can be found with a passport, a notebook, and an overactive imagination. Good News, Mom is their second short fiction publication and their first with Close To The Bone Magazine.

Latest posts by E. Allen Foxx (see all)

• Good News, Mom - June 28, 2026