Moment

She walked into the old cafe, the ringing bell announcing her arrival. An elderly man looked up from the paper he was reading, then fell back into his solitary state. She slid into the booth seat, aware of taking 4 seats for only her, as if she were waiting for someone else. There was no one else coming to meet her. She sighed.

Her hands, she noticed, were dryer than usual. Maybe she had some lotion in her purse. She roamed around with her hand, identifing objects merely by touch. So many little items, so familiar. But not the one she was looking for. She frowned as she put the purse gently beside her hip. “What was she doing here?” she asked herself absently. She questioned alot now. So uncertain of the meaning of things.

The waitress arrived carrying a pot of coffee and a forced smile. “Coffee?” the waitress offered. She took a moment to read her name tag. “Shirley” it said, with a smiley face drawn on. “Yes please.” She wondered what Shirley thought of her, at that moment. Did she expect someone was coming for her? Did she see her as pretty or plain? It has been a while since she really wore make up. It’s hard to know if it matters.

She looked at the black liquid before her, as if looking for an answer to a question she long since forgot about. In goes the cream, turning the blackness into a milky grey. She looks absently out the window at nothing in particular. The warmth from her first sip, a bit bitter, brings comfort to this moment. A snapshot in time. The worry and tension eased. People walking, encapsulated in their own thought bubbles. Did one need to be alone to feel lonely? She leaned back into her seat, relaxing and enjoying the role of the observer. Another sip. A rogue, swirling wind lifted a man’s hat from his head, sending him into a ballet dance of trying to retrieve it. A subtle smile curled her lips from her normal non-commital neutral line. A moment.

For the first time she thought about him. Another moment. Another time. Alone. But not lonely. She looked at her watch. Her smile fading. She finished her cup of coffee and tossed some change onto the table as she scooted out of the booth. A pause. A glance. She suddenly forgot the laws of physics and crawled into her purse, beside the tiny bottle of hand sanitizer and pack of tissues. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She then grabbed her purse and stepped out into the late afternoon sun.