Cafe Encounter

She worked Monday through Friday at the corner cafe a block from my flat, she started at 9 o'clock every morning so I arrived at 8:40 so I didn't look to awkward always being there. I was always busy and working on my book so it didn't look like I was only there for her. I sat out on the patio confined to the outside area because of my addiction. I could see her walking from her bus stop, she had her routine, she would step off the bus and immediately start scurrying her little hands through her bag. The bag was ratting but unique, it wasn't dirty but it wasn't very posh, it was... I guess the word for it would be artsty. So she would scrounge through this artsy bag while still standing at the bus stop that was a quarter of a block away, pulling out her rings and placing them on her fingers and then finally she would stop and a cigarette would magnetically find her lips followed by a match. When she would light this cigarette every morning at the bus stop she was almost in slow motion. Her hair would flutter around her neck and her hand would slowly bring the lit match to the tip of the cigarette. She would take a drag and look from left to right for oncoming traffic. By the time she looked right she would be half way in the street already. Stepping onto the curb across the street she would glance down at her watch and continue towards the cafe. By the time she arrived at the cafe she would be squishing the cigarette into the earth. She would swing the door open and walk in and put her little green apron on, fix her hair say her hellos to the staff and a few regular customers. Usually she would see me but never say a word. If anything she would give me a courtesy head nod. After doing her rounds throughout the cafe she walked up to my table and said, "Hi Samuel, how are we today?" as I responded "I'm doin-" she interrupted me and said "Do you need another coffee?" I didn't know what to say after being stopped halfway through my sentence, so I just said "Yes please, that would be great." She grabbed my empty cup and turned and walked back to the bar. I just sat finishing my cigarette. I sat at the cafe for another hour before I asked for my check, the check came and I paid the bill and for some odd reason I decided to write on the little square napkin my phone number with a note underneath reading 

370 4790

"Call me if you ever want to really hear how I am doing"

Pushing my chair out and standing up I swung my jacket on, ruffling all of my papers together extinguishing my last cigarette and walking out from under the umbrellas and trees into the sunshine. Slipping my sunglasses onto my face softly and lighting another cigarette pausing in front of the cafe and hailing a cab to go to the studio...