She knew this was the last time they were meeting and wanted to be nice, and honest.
They sat in the same place they often used to sit, bang in the middle of a crowded café overlooking the concourse. In the midst of the crowd, they had always managed to find their solitude, their voices, and their stories as if they were protected by the eiderdown. She wanted the last time to be like the first meeting and the many in-betweens.
“So, I am getting married” she started, suddenly remembering this is not how she wanted to start nor could she explain why she felt the sudden throbbing pain inside. He just looked at her, held her eyes for sometime and looked away. Then he stirred his coffee very slowly, as if his life depended on that steady action and replied,” If that is what you want.” She wanted to scream, pounce on him and strangle him and die with him that moment but continued the balderdash about how nice the man she was about to marry was, and how much in love they were. He listened quietly, observing how her cheeks turned crimson red and how her eyes were so wonderful tonight, all animated with a tear threatening to fall, something that made him feel like crushing her is his arms. He began to smoke leaving the coffee un-sipped.
Having nothing else to say or hear, she stood up saying, he needn’t see her off.
Walking through the boulevard, she suddenly remembered a time when they had walked leisurely after leaving the coffee house, sharing peanuts from a cone and singing a duet. She had laughed saying, ‘If people were to hear only our voices, they’d certainly think two guys are singing.’ To which, he had replied,’oh, let me check then if I am walking with a guy or a girl’. She kicked him and ran; with him running right behind her, laughing.
Collecting herself, she hastened her steps and coughed away her tears. He stood at a distance, perhaps thinking the same thoughts, smoking.
They sat in the same place they often used to sit, bang in the middle of a crowded café overlooking the concourse. In the midst of the crowd, they had always managed to find their solitude, their voices, and their stories as if they were protected by the eiderdown. She wanted the last time to be like the first meeting and the many in-betweens.
“So, I am getting married” she started, suddenly remembering this is not how she wanted to start nor could she explain why she felt the sudden throbbing pain inside. He just looked at her, held her eyes for sometime and looked away. Then he stirred his coffee very slowly, as if his life depended on that steady action and replied,” If that is what you want.” She wanted to scream, pounce on him and strangle him and die with him that moment but continued the balderdash about how nice the man she was about to marry was, and how much in love they were. He listened quietly, observing how her cheeks turned crimson red and how her eyes were so wonderful tonight, all animated with a tear threatening to fall, something that made him feel like crushing her is his arms. He began to smoke leaving the coffee un-sipped.
Having nothing else to say or hear, she stood up saying, he needn’t see her off.
Walking through the boulevard, she suddenly remembered a time when they had walked leisurely after leaving the coffee house, sharing peanuts from a cone and singing a duet. She had laughed saying, ‘If people were to hear only our voices, they’d certainly think two guys are singing.’ To which, he had replied,’oh, let me check then if I am walking with a guy or a girl’. She kicked him and ran; with him running right behind her, laughing.
Collecting herself, she hastened her steps and coughed away her tears. He stood at a distance, perhaps thinking the same thoughts, smoking.
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