Sitting patiently and enjoying the hot coffee. Extremely hot in it's little cup. A small amount of sugar to sweeten and sipping slurping noises. The sun hides behind trees, no clouds in the azure sky. The metal of the chair was hot when first sitting down, a stark contrast to the cool early spring air. It is one of those days that the weather simply demands one to wear no jacket with short sleeves even though it is still chilled. The direct sunlight rescues the skin from goosebumps and penetrates directly to the soul. It hadn't been a particularly long winter but it was a punishing one. Weathering the elements, weathering the heart, weathering the pain.
Rustling over head, the sound of envelopes being slid across a desk. The green leaves swaying back and forth in the icy breeze. Shadows dance around on the table, the chair, across the coffee cup. The warm sunlight moves around and draws radiant random figures in heat across the skin. The shadows from the leaves offering stark contrast and cooling darkness. Passerby deep in thought, deep in conversation, but most, unfortunately, lost in electronic fray. Sucked into the ear buds and controlled by weakness of signal or endurance of battery or limit of volume. Passerby simply passing it by.
Steam rises off the coffee, like a ghost rising from a grave, translucent and beautiful and temporary and majestic. Time passes slowly when each second is inspected. Sip after scalding sip stranger after passing stranger. The smell of spring competes with the coffee. Damp green leaves, wet fertile soil and rain. A car glides past, bouncing over the cobblestone, engine softly humming and a shrill whine from the transmission. The windows are opened, softly rolling outward are the muted mumbles of the radio. A song that is familiar, ears perk up. Footsteps. Clunking boot heels. The sound of familiar comfortable shoes.
She smokes a cigarette as she approaches. Inhaling deeply and exhaling through her nose. Smoke pillowing downward and quickly disappearing. Dark curly hair bouncing slightly in rhythm to the cadence of the boot steps. The corners of her mouth pull up, a few teeth show through her smile as Her eyes connect with His. Her dress reveals nothing and everything. Neckline above the sternum. Short sleeves puffy and just long enough to cover her shoulder but leave her bicep bare. Deep plaid that seems endless, line after line of a variety of blue and purple and brown and black. Just above her knees the hemline stops. Ruffles swishing and swaying with each step.
Chattering as the chair is slid back for her. Chattering as she slides it under the table and under her. Clinking as another stifling hot cup of coffee is brought. No sugar to sweeten, the bitterness interests her, the intimate discovery of taste. A voyage of nerve endings and chemical reactions. Her cigarette is spent and squashed into the ashtray. Another is produced and as she places the tobacco to her lips, he produces a lighter. He hesitates, his eyes asking when, she glances back with twinkling clear eyes, a smile flashes and she leans over the table. A hiss and a snap, flame kisses the tip of the cigarette and as she gently inhales, engulfs it. She leans back and with her right hand's middle finger and ring finer, in that way unique to her, she removes the cigarette from her mouth and exhales the white plume of smoke. Right elbow tucked in, hand up by her shoulder, palm to the sky. The newly lit cigarette dangles.
How is your day going?
Words laced with smoke drift towards him.