coffee?

sitting in the cafe.
sitting.
waiting.
smell of coffee and cinnamon buns suround,
like exaust from a bus as it goes by.
sitting with his feet,
toes crossed under the table,
legs strait,
bum on the edge of the chair.
he glances over at the little menue on the table.
lunch special.
i dont like mushrooms,
better not get the lunch special.
legs bent,
bum on the whole chair now.
elbows on the table.
hands clasped tight,
as if they were glued to one another.
eyes are glued to the person at the front counter.
what is he doing?
opening the till?
no,
closing the till.
slides something into his pocket.
verry jittery,
glancing around,
like a mouse when it hears a small noise.
wiskers twitching.
back to the menue.
maby just a coffee.
two sugars,
one cream.
what time is it?
four past two.
looks away from his watch,
out the frosted window.
there he is,
the one i have been waiting ten minuets for.
waiting.
sitting.
he sees me as he walk in,
mist comming in the door,
as if the building is breathing into the cold.
he looks at his feet,
wiping them on the little coffee shop mat.
first the right foot.
then the left.
then the right again.
i wave,
but he isnt looking.
now he is.
i wave again.
he waves back.
hey he says.
voice cracks a little,
as if he hadnt spoken yet today.
maby he hadnt.
i sure havent.
hi.
my voice sounded faint,
so i said it again.
hi.
that was better.
he sits across from me,
and i shiver.
we sit for a moment,
and i begin to speak.



that is a story
i just wrote
right now
out of my head
its kinda bad
and poorly written
but if you like it
give me a comment
i will write the rest later
in another blog
stay tuned