A teenager, male or female, in spotlight
Last summer, when I worked in a café, I waited on a couple who came in regularly. They were young, and from what I could tell, they were very much in love. They were so nice to me, asked how I was doing, how was school. I began to think of them as friends.
But all that changed one day. The man came alone to the café. He brought a book with him. He told me that his wife had been killed in a car accident, along with her lover.
What could I say to him? Nothing other than to say I was sorry. From then on, he never spoke unless it was to order. He always had a book with him. I would refill his water glass or his coffee mug, then back away. He would stare at his book, and forget to turn the page. He forgot to ask me how I was doing. He was always the last customer to leave. He would walk out of the cafe and into the night. Where was he going? I didn’t want to think about it.
Call me selfish, but I lost something, too.
— Christopher Woods
I really enjoyed this story. Short, but packs a wollop. Thanks.
The sense of lost is not unheeded. A lingering melancholy of what once was reminds.