He was sitting on his regular table in the small bistro, totally lost in the smoke coming out of his fresh coffee as it was lacing with the humming sound around, only to mingle with the rays of sunlight passing through the window.

She walked in, insinuating a current of silence, serenity and composure, where all sounds stood still in respect to her presence, stepping over the slightly creaking wooden floor towards the empty table on the other side.

I found myself drawn to her, usually I don’t have a saying on where I am being taken but this time I forced myself towards her and luckily, he responded and adjusted his seat. As I was getting closer I could feel the particles of her perfume filling my extension, announcing the presence of a happy coincidence, a vision that was planted out of a baby’s laugh.

She put her shades on the table and I was almost blinded by the glare in her big brown eyes, a spark that only ignites a life in a long dried up heart.

As I started to slide on her soft skin, moving with her pounding heart, I could feel the thousand thoughts racing in her mind, her shaky hands nearing the phone without making the call, the tear imprisoned at the corner of her eyes.

I wanted to ease her worries and rest her thoughts; wanted her to know that I am finally here, the reason of her worldly existence, the one who mused her into being, incarnated her out of his thoughts. But would she settle for a shadow, I wondered.

He finished his coffee and started walking towards the door while his shadow was dragged in silence and a hint of a smile started to gather at the intersection of her lips.



One thought on “jotting

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s