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...
It was one of those days where nothing seemed appealing, even the color of the shoes that I wear every day seemed unattractive. But somehow everything seemed to catch my attention, especially the way my shoes looked when I walked. My feet kept moving without me even consciously trying to move them. I loved the way my feet would just move in front of each other on the sidewalk. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. It was like I was detached at the hip and the top half of me was watching the bottom half of me glide across the pavement. First my heal would hit the ground, then the arc of my foot would lower itself so that the palm of my foot and five toes would touch the ground. While this was happening the same thing would happen with my other foot. The pattern repeated for a while before I even noticed that the streets were starting to fill people.
It must be lunchtime because my stomach started to growl and people in business suits started to scurry through the streets and into restaurants to fill their stomachs on their 30-minute lunch breaks. I browsed the shops lining both sides of the streets to find some place to eat, but after a little while I gave up, nothing looked very appealing.
The sun formed shade that started to over shadow me as I walked along side the tall buildings. The glare from windows were flashing at me out of the corner of my eye. I looked down to see if my feet were still moving me: they were.
I finally ended up at a park in the center of the city. I sat down on a bench that looked remotely aesthetically appealing and rested myself upon it. I slung my bag over my shoulder and plopped it down next to me. I rummaged through it and grabbed my fine tipped sharpie. I only use black ink, it’s a weird fixation of mine. I looked further into my Mary Poppins bag and saw three different sketchbooks and some book that happened to capture enough interest for me to feel it was impertinent for me to carry around. I debated which book was appropriate for my mood.
I ended up picking the one with the least amount of writing and had the least amount of color to it. It just felt right. It had a black ostrich skinned cover that felt good in my hands. The bumps somehow felt comfortable today, not like they usually did. I guess it was just one of those days. I was in denial of my world and didn’t feel like facing it. That’s usually what these days are about. I decide to dive into my own imagination and write, or draw, thoughts that come out subconsciously. It was a self-therapy day.
I could still hear the sounds from the streets at the end of the park as I started to write. Who knows what came out of my pen that day, whether it was words or scribbles, I don’t remember. The only thing I remember is taking off the cap, putting it on the back end of the pen so I wouldn’t lose it, and touching it to my paper. Everything else faded away. I didn’t hear sounds or see anything that I remember. My thoughts started speaking to me. I could hear myself. It was a wonderful feeling. I didn’t need anything else. Time started worrying about itself and life started passing me by.
I finally snapped myself out of me, who knows how long I’d been there, and looked up. The world looked a bit brighter. I’m not sure if it was the release of thoughts or the fact that the sun was touching me, but it got my feet excited and I started walking again.
I think I was walking to the farmer’s market to grab some fruit, lost in the daydreams I had formerly been indulging in. I was thinking about something green when all of a sudden a door came flying at me. It hit me right in the face and ruined my newest daydream. I blinked a few times to make sure I could still function, that’s when I heard it.
“Shit that sucks. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not dead,” I said, offended that this stranger would think that a little knock on my forehead was going to make me dysfunctional.
“Wow, you sure you’re okay? You seem a little too feisty towards a stranger to be fine,” he said with a sassy little smile.
I looked up and finally saw who my violator was. I was immediately charmed by the way he had suddenly put me in my place. He was wearing all black, which usually was something only I could successfully pull off. My friends have told me that making things match that shouldn’t match was a talent of mine. He had dark curly hair that fell slightly in front of his face. I only looked at his eyes for a moment, but noticed they were a piercing warm hazelnut color. The sudden shift in my gaze brought me down to his shoes. I liked his shoes. I don’t remember why but it was probably the way they held himself up on the ground. They looked just right, positioned perfectly on the cement.
I was too distracted by his shoes and imagining how I would draw them, when he bent down and picked up my sketchbook that I had apparently dropped.
“Well here you go Miss Fine,” he said as he handed me my book. I went to reach for it but was enamored by the decorations he had on his hands and wrist. They looked a lot like mine. I clutched the book as he released it into my grasp and smiled.
“Thank you,” I said, slightly embarrassed with how my first few words had came out. It must have been my frustration with the loss of my great green dream.
“There that’s a bit friendlier. Hi, I’m Sam,” the stranger said as he extended his hand out for me to shake.
“Hey,” I said, “I’m Emily. I’m usually not rude, it’s just that this door interrupted my thoughts…” I started rambling and realized that he didn’t know me and wouldn’t understand, “It’s just been one of those days,” I said to save my sanity.
“Understandable. I hate it when I lose those thoughts,” he said with a smile. His smile must have made my feet excited because before I knew it I was walking away.
“Um, thanks again,” I said as I passed by him and scurried on to who knows where, by that time I had forgotten my destination. I had walked maybe 6 feet when I turned around to steal one more glance at him. He had moved from where I had collided with the door, and was walking in the other direction. He turned his head to look over his shoulder back at me. It was almost as if he could feel my eyes searching for one more glance at his face. Our eyes met, he smiled, I’m not sure what I did in response, but the next thing I knew my thoughts had taken over again and my feet were carrying me away.
That’s where it all had started. On a corner of a busy city while I was daydreaming and he stumbled in and woke me up to see reality.
It was a quarter to nine and I was late for my meeting again. Missed my bus by a fraction of a second, so I had to revert to the money stealing cab. I arrived at Orange Publishing Co. around 9:30. I stepped out of the cab and tried shuffling through the crowd of people. There was a light haze over the morning but the day looked promising.
I walked into the Orange office and was greeted by Rebecca the lovely brunette at the desk, she was always way to happy in the mornings, the sort of person that says stuff like "it's going to be a beautiful day today right Mr. Nelson?" Giving me no time to respond and saying "Did you read your horoscope today?" She amazes me every time, I never could understand how someone could be that giddy in the morning so I just reply as I walk by her, never breaking my stride, "No I haven't read it, why don't you read it and tell me after the meeting." She always smiles very big and nods her head.
My pitch of a story to these publishers was successful, the meeting last a little over an hour and a half. It was about 11:30 when I actually made it to the floor lobby. I was walking towards the big dark wooden door that led to the street. I pushed the door open (which is the worst idea for a door leading to the streets of New York) The burst of sunlight warmed my face and the sudden blast of noise from the hundreds of people running to grab lunch on their thirty minute lunch breaks made me feel at home. The door although was suddenly stopped short of fully opening. I heard a smack, so I peaked around the door quickly. There was a young woman standing there holding her face. I couldn't but giggle to myself, but immediately caught myself after noticing the eloquent stature of this being. She was a fierce looking blonde haired woman. She had loads of rings covering her fingers and a few necklaces on. I noticed those first because that was how I liked to dress also. She was wearing these tight grayish black jeans, with a long white shirt and these black flats. She was a masterpiece of delicacy. Her aroma was amazing. I didn't know what to say when the door hit her so I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, which I should have thought about first because it came out as "Shit that sucks, are you okay?" Shaking my head to myself out of embarrassment. Her response was "Yeah I'm fine, I'm not dead." I didn't know how to take that response. Was I supposed to laugh or be sensitive towards her. In my mind I thought I would laugh it off so I said “Wow, you sure you’re okay? You seem a little too feisty towards a stranger to be fine,” Which now that I think about it, that wasn't the smartest way to win a girl over, telling her she is feisty. What was I thinking? She looked up at me at this moment and this sort of daze came across her face, I didn't know what to think so I just smiled. She didn't stand there for long, she kind of brushed herself off a bit and started to strut away. The way she walked was the way I needed to go but I felt so awkward walking the same direction as her so I just turned the opposite way and began to walk. Rethinking in my head why I did not ask her to dinner in that moment and debating in my head if I should go back for her I took a double take to see if it made sense in my head. As soon as I glanced back she had been glancing back at me also she gave me a nonchalant wink as if I was missing out on something. I just kept walking and this beautiful woman has not made it out of my mind since...
