WAITING
FOR HER
It
was a golden hour, dusty colors illuminated the trees in the far horizon. I was
seated near a window of a local coffee café, the girl I met on the online
dating application was now thirty minutes late. I was anxious and even hoped
she could not make it. What do I say? Am I overdressed? Were some of the
questions battering in my head. The aromas of the roasted coffee beans reminded
me of my childhood memories, seated as a family with warming soothing smiles of
happiness, that and the crimson sky outside helped me to calm down.
I looked towards the counter, the
baristas were very busy attending to the caffeine needs of customers. It was
chaotic, between the claustrophobic feelings on how confined the shop was and
the repeated horns of traffic outside. I sought peace in the densely creamy
vanilla latte which sat in front of me. Behind me was the soothing warmth of an
oven which gave off a strong smell of yeast. The intensity of this aroma was so
much that in my mouth I tasted the freshly baked bread, a fragment of my
imagination.
There happened to be a clock right in
front of me, and as much as I resisted to look at it, when I saw it from time
to time, the minute had seemed hot glued. My time in this café seemed like
eternal admiration. I was growing impatient, and my sub-conscience mind drew up
reasons for why she is running late. This was my greatest fear, being lied to
“I should probably call her,” I said to myself. But I don’t want to seem desperate.
Is this hell, I asked myself, having to wait for someone for the rest of your life.
Since I got to the shop, there had
been a lady standing still on my right side. I could see she was so busy with
her phone the whole time, and might I add that she was dressed in a rich lovely
silk dress. It seemed only right to offer her a seat next to me as she seemed
to be patiently waiting for someone too. She accepted my offer and took as
seat.
I could not stop staring at her
stringy blonde hair which complemented her complexion. I nervously asked her,
“What’s your name?” which she replied in a slow whisper, “Meleiva Anderson,
you?” I stopped to digest the information, my fur overwhelmed with confusion as
she share the same name as the girl I was waiting for for the past hour.
Done By: Imran Feisal
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