Her obsession

There’s a girl who comes to the café I go to. She’s gets there every morning around ten, which is before my shift starts so that’s when I go too. I’ve even held the door for her on occasions when we’ve arrived at the same time.

She sits on the big table while I spread out in a booth at the back. But we can see each other. We’re creatures of habit. She orders cake and coffee and always reads from a paperback.

I drink peppermint tea with extra hot water and browse the paper.

I’m sure she comes because she knows I’ll be there. Perhaps it’s the same for me. Except I have Leila. I don’t need my cake girl.

One day I’ll go to a different place. There’ll be a different girl. In a different seat. The sun, perhaps lighting her hair.

And I’ll watch her.

While back at Emilio’s the cake girl sips and nibbles and wonders, her paperback unopen on the table.

 

2011-Richard Holt / small stories about love (smallstoriesaboutlove.wordpress.com)

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