I caught the reflection of her face in the glass of the door she opened into the world, out of my life as I sat at the small cafe table with my emptied cappuccino cup and the unopened sugar packet on the saucer next to the clean mocha spoon. I remember how hard it was to keep it together at that moment sitting in that cafe surrounded by random faces. Then I steeled myself, fighting the sting of unwept tears; stood up and walked out of that place, rolling up my collar against gusts of wind that blew threw my heart like the blast wave of an atom bomb.
The cafe went out of business not long after that, but sometimes the streets still take me back to there and I sit on the curb outside the abandoned shops and drink, waiting for someone to come and drive me home.
The cafe went out of business not long after that, but sometimes the streets still take me back to there and I sit on the curb outside the abandoned shops and drink, waiting for someone to come and drive me home.
