In a futile attempt to distance herself from her mother’s palpable disappointment, she escapes from the kitchen, bathed in the sunlight of a late summer afternoon, and heads to the cafe. She sits at a table next to the window, sipping her coffee while doing a crossword.
“Hey,” says a voice from the booth in front of her. “Whatcha doin’?” She doesn’t know his name, but has seen him around school occasionally. When she tells him, he disappears only to reappear at her table. His cup, complete with spoon sticking out to one side, is in his right hand; his motorcycle keys dangle from the fingertips of his left.
An unlit cigarette is trapped tantalizingly between his lips. He sits down across from her as though they actually know one another. She cannot believe her good fortune.
Meeting – Fragment #11