OUTSIDE THE WINDOW

by Mik

Outside the window, rain has begun to fall, driven by wind, to blinding sheets.

Inside the cafe, I savor the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and the anticipation of your arrival. You will be breathless because you rushed, but I find that exhilarating. You changed something about yourself because you knew I value promptness.

Outside the window, tires screech on the slick, newly wet pavement.

Inside the cafe, someone is playing a violin and I think of the night I taught you to tell the difference between Bach and Mozart. And you taught me how to strip to Queen. I changed something about myself because you value spontaneity.

Outside the window, footsteps scuffle past, hurrying, and voices raise in concern.

Inside the cafe, I glance at my watch. You are very close to being late. I'll forgive you, of course. How could I stay mad, listening to your wild explanations and urgent, beguiling promises to somehow make it up to me, perhaps all night long?

Outside the window, a crowd gathers, and in the distance, a siren begins to wail.

- END -