The big wooden door didn’t seem to care that it slammed right into me once I was inside; and as it bumped into my behind, it provoked my rain coat to drizzle wet onto the beautifully polished floor. I took it off in a huff and my impatient and unusually loud sigh might have just made my friend notice me and wave frantically as if she hadn’t seen me in months.
I smiled pathetically and made my way through the huddled tables and chairs. Before I knew it I was deep into a typical girl conversation which just seemed to add to the bird-like chit-chat that was fluttering about The Coffee House when I first entered.
But as I balanced on the unstable stool that was at least half my height, my concentration on the latest gossip dwindled. Because as my dear friend whistled on about her boyfriend and her latest shopping craze- my eyes caught sight of him.
And for a tiny amount of time; the strong and delectable smell of coffees, cappuccinos, espressos and the occasional hot chocolates vanished.
The familiar sounds of people complaining about their jobs and pay, the easily identified giggling over how they made a fool of themselves in front of that gorgeous male, the headache-irking cry of that sweet little baby in the corner and the irritable waiter right next to me asking what I wanted to eat.
For a second- it was all gone. It was as if life’s author had had a sudden writer’s block.
He sat alone, staring into space.
His clean cut cheeks along with his casual attire, dark floppy hair and soft facial features made an attractive combination.
He couldn’t have been older than thirty. His subtle frown lines backed up my opinion. There was no menu in front of him; no coffee, no bag of some sort, not even a jacket or rain coat. He just sat there. Empty-handed - and what sadly seemed as empty-hearted too.
He was deep in thought, and while my mind blocked out everything else around me - I tried to read his. I wondered what his name was, but it was difficult to give such an expressionless face a name.
My eyes caught the gentle reflection of his watch, which he hadn’t looked at once. He really was alone, and intended to be. His life seemed at that moment as empty as the round wooded table in front of him. He had captured me in his heartrending trance and I could feel, just by analyzing him as best I could - that he too could not smell the coffee being made around him. And so it seemed, he wouldn’t smell anything comforting for a long time.
Then, without any warning or expectation - he moved. And I felt myself moving with him. It was only a slight movement; and it may have caused me to escape his trance a little - as I then heard my forgotten friend chatting uncontrollably again. I might have heard the words ‘smart’ ‘SO funny’ and ‘good-looking’.
That was my distraction.
For now he was out of his own trance and was looking around. I started to wonder if he had been stood up or was inevitably too shy to invite that pretty girl he might have liked. But I was wrong.
The hand he had been dealt was now being shuffled. My analyzing and pragmatic mind frame had been defeated. Because when he slowly put his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small, delicate box and thoughtfully opened it - the tear that fortuitously ran down his clean cut cheek, made my own heart weep.
The (what now seemed) gentle, desolate and heart-broken stranger made his way to the door; which didn’t seem to care that it thudded against his behind as he stepped out into the miserable rain.
My unusually loud sigh might have caused my friend to scream out my name so loud that the twitter of The Coffee House immediately settled down.
“What can I get you ma’am?” the grumpy old waiter said under his breath. And as I stared at the empty table I had been looking at for the previous moment, I sadly shook my head;
“Nothing thank-you - I’m not hungry.”
~oOo~
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