The Wait

March 2009

She waited at the coffee shop. The shadows lengthened and the new March leaves caught the evening light. Music played unnecessarily loudly in the background. Mean music with no great depth. But those were the kind of people she saw around her. A thin and short young man leaned behind his girlfriend as their friends took pictures with their mobile cameras. On another table, a large man with fluffy hair idled with the whipped cream on his frappe as he talked to his companion behind the wall. The wooden chairs partially reflected the light. The red cube lights near the counter were on. The walls were lined partially with wooden panels of a grayish brown colour. Pictures of different coffee related items were on the glass walls, on flip stands on the tables and behind the counter. The floor was tiled in smooth beige squares. There were a few empty tables but the atmosphere inside was loud. The outside, despite the passing traffic on the small road seemed quieter.

She wished the shop would have newspapers, if not books to read while waiting. After her late lunch though, she was glad to wait longer for something to drink. Had she been there for too long? She thought the working staff were giving her impatient looks. She felt like she must order something soon to avoid being thrown out.

Unlike the previous time, she didn’t feel very impatient and edgy, only restless and jittery. She had had a moderately good day and was hoping to go for a concert later. But she hadn’t found anyone willing or able to come.

Maybe she should’ve brought her own book, she thought. The shadows were even longer now and the evening light was dimming. She didn’t usually like waiting but this happened so rarely, that she really didn’t mind much. None of the nearby shops had books. Next time, she would plan for a place with an adjoining book shop.

And suddenly, her wait was over.

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