Stanzas: Monthly Chapbooks September 2015 (Internet) | Page 21
Damp Tinder
Emer Hayes
I
’m waiting for you, in that café we mutually decided on. You like coffee,
I recall. So do I. It’s not very busy here, despite it being lunchtime.
It’s beginning to rain. I follow the path of individual droplets on their
journey down the window.
I don’t feel nervous, not really. My phone bings and your message
lets me know you’re on your way with a smiley face emoticon. I briefly
scroll through our past conversations and I can still feel the strong
connection we seem to share. I swipe through your pictures again,
admiring your clean shaven face, handsome smile and delicious arms.
God, I hope you look like that.
Panic is beginning to creep in through my heavily-laden pores. Do
I look like the person in my profile pictures? I mean most, if not all, of
them were captured after numerous preparation procedures for a night
out with friends. I did take more time this morning getting ready than
usual. I hope I don’t look overdone, we’re only going for coffee after all.
There’s a glass vase in the centre of the table. I notice the daffodils
that droop over the side, a feeble attempt to spruce the place up for
spring. I’m in the middle of counting the petals of the third flower
when a girl with a black apron approaches me. She asks if I would like
anything. She must have noticed I’ve been here for ages. I’m tempted
to get something but would it be rude to have one without you? Would
I seem greedy or something for having multiple coffees? ‘No thanks,’ I
respond. ‘I’m waiting for someone.’ I can’t help but smile while saying
this. She returns to the counter with a poker face. But what if you don’t
come after all? The smile falls away as quickly as it appeared.
You could be any one of those people passing the window, not even
bothering to glance in, to walk in and meet the person you’ve been
talking to every day to for the last two weeks. I can feel the barista
staring at me again. I know what she’s thinking, “Buy something or go.
he’s not coming, sweetheart.” I get a cappuccino and return to my seat.
I delicately kiss the foam while it’s too hot to sip, and return the cup to
its plate with a clink. More people have entered the café. I risk a quick
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