Once a week he would tear himself from the bowels of his secluded existence. The dormant passion of his esoteric heart sprang to life on this day – vibrant, apprehensive. Untapped. The sun, rain, sky, and clouds encouraged him. His comfortably heavy chest led the way. Swiftly down concrete streets, across the water, through the park and back to the eternal streets. Only when the destination of his shuffling feet and erratic heart entered his field of vision did the sweet blood running through his veins receive a sour impulse. “How should I greet her? Last time I simply said hello. I think it is time for good afternoon. But it must leave my lips casually. Yes, above all, casually.”
The place was quiet as always. He could see her from a distance through the large glass window, leaning lightly on the counter, chatting with a colleague. Today it took only two deep breaths and a brushing of the forehead to enter the coffee shop. She smiled at him, he forgot his greeting and straightaway ordered a coffee. Silence, a smile here and there, a fervent wish to go back in life and learn small-talk. A porcelain cup hit the counter. He voiced his thank you for the coffee, among other things.
He sat down, sipped at the bitterness, and imagined staring unabashed into her hazel eyes, slipping his hands around her waist and planting a kiss on her bottom lip.
Having finished his coffee and reason to stay, he waited for a pause in her conversation to get up, say goodbye and walk out. The melody of her reply lingered in his mind as he meandered down the street, through the park, across the water. Next week.