Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Americano...

He bends down to reach a book on the lowest shelf. His backpack still lodged on his back, headphones in, he thumbs through the pages. She can’t make out what he’s reading. Whatever it is, it has his attention.

She watches him get up and move to the café. He orders an Americano. He always orders an Americano. Waiting for his order, his fingers fidget and his eyes shift around. He thinks no one notices. But she notices. She notices everything.

Coffee in hand, backpack still on, headphones still in, he passes her. There are no words exchanged. Not even smiles. They pretend they’ve never met. But she knows. And he knows.

But they’re not saying.

tall penguin

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