Blogger Award and a Short Story- Saturday Morning Cafe (revisited)

I was very pleasantly surprised to visit my friend Mhairi's blog and find she's bestowed an award upon me, the Story Time Blogger Medal:

  Totally loving the Monty Python reference. Thanks so much for this Mhairi, is it any wonder I hang around?

  So I feel it's only fair to write a short story to go along with it.  But since time is so limited lately I hope you guys won't think I'm cheating if I blow the dust off the cover of this one that I wrote some time ago. Yeah, I'm a sucker for romantic relationships...

Saturday Morning Cafe 

   Danielle set the overflowing mug of latte on the table and nestled into ‘her’ comfy chair, in the corner of her favourite local cafe. She had always thought of this place as quaint, a word not used often these days but still somehow perfectly describing the atmosphere and charm it held. She had recently made a routine of coming here every Saturday morning. In actuality there was no point; she had an espresso machine in her apartment and was more than capable of making whatever she wanted. But the shop was comforting in its familiarity and besides, she reasoned, a single girl in her twenties needs to get out if she's to ever meet someone.

   Pulling the novel from her purse she rested its worn cover on the table’s edge and opened the bookmarked page, briefly allowing her eyes to sweep through the room. The cafe was surprisingly busy this time of morning. Her eyes were half-turned back to the book when she spotted him. Danielle had seen him here each Saturday around this time, which perhaps was a large reason for her continual return. Impeccably dressed in business attire, she couldn’t help but wonder what he did for a living. Executive? Salesman?

   Whatever the case, the laptop always occupied a good amount of his time. This morning as any other he was fixated on the screen, which allowed her the usual time for stolen glances. The kind accompanied by quick aversion of our eyes when the subject of our attention looks our way, should (God forbid) they ever notice our interest. Their eyes had never met yet she couldn’t help but wonder if he played the same coy game, and was as skilled as she at not being obvious. Danielle grinned, fully knowing that without this distraction she would have finished the novel long ago.

   No matter.

   She lazily sipped on the hot drink, awash in morning sun as it came around and began gently streaming through the window. This was her favourite part of the day, a chance to enjoy some quiet solitude before the reality of chores, errands and phone calls intruded.

   Only this morning was different. Because with one careless glance, one glimpse too long, this man who had remained elusive for so long looked up and met her eyes with his.

   'Oh crap!' She froze, just long enough to catch his smile before quickly turning feigned attention to her book. She was afraid to look back up, a million thoughts running through her head. ‘What did that mean? Was he even looking at me? Of course he was stupid, you’re sitting in the corner. There’s no one behind you.'

  From the corner of her eye she caught his form as he closed the laptop and rose from the table. Making his way towards her, he turned not towards the door but instead to where she was sitting, and before Danielle knew it he was before her. This couldn’t be happening. He leaned in.

   "You may not know this, but..."

   The anticipation of words to come hung in the air for an eternity. She wanted to clutch her chest, almost afraid he'd hear her heart racing. She stared into his eyes, embarassingly lost in the depth of blue gazing back at her. He moved in closer still. God he smelled good.

   Mr. Dreamy gently scooped up a tuft of foam that had dripped down the side of her mug, playfully placing it on the tip of his nose.

   “…it looks like we have something in common.”

   Big smirk.

   “Oh God.” Danielle whispered, mortified. She cupped one hand over her mouth and wiped it off, sinking into her chair. “I feel so stupid.”

   “Not at all. You look better in latte than any woman I’ve met.” He grinned; she definitely possessed a certain charm. Gesturing toward the chair across from her he placed a hand on its back. “May I?”

   The request caught her completely off-guard. “I thought you were leaving?”

  “Doesn’t seem that important anymore” he replied, resting his laptop on the table. “I’m Robert...”







photo credit: me