a day to try something new and courageous. Wasn't this why she was here alone- to collect the local experience she could proudly talk about when she was back in her familial world?
And there she was, it was a small door, painted pale yellow on the borders with some wildflowers on the rectangular edges with some green grass, or what it would have been many years ago, now it was faded and just gave a blurry idea of what the owner wanted to depict. "Why am I here? Let's get coffee somewhere else!" Suddenly, the other voice overpowered, "Come on in, I did not hear the bell tinkle. Did you knock?" And there she was, an ancient lady dressed in an oversized pale pink shirt and navy trousers, more like the door; her dress was also from another time when these colours may have appeared brighter. She let a faint smile spread across her face and entered to be greeted by a strong smell of coffee, which engulfed the place.
As numerous reviewers on Google described, it was a small café with walls painted in pale green and pink, reminding her of an old-age French shop with the smell of pastries and coffee lingering. There were 5 tables neatly set up and covered with off-white table cloth. She occupied the table closest to the door in case she had to dart off in a hurry. Apart from her, she could see only one other man, probably in his 50s, occupying a table ahead, with a jumble of grey and black hair, wholly absorbed in a book. She sat but kept fiddling her fingers and tapping her foot, marking the emotions running through her head aflutter. And then she found the discoloured menu on the table. After reviewing the small and limited menu numerous times, she settled on a black coffee and vanilla pastry. After placing the order, she tried to calm her nerves and fiddled further on her phone, which did not help. She then graduated to the book in her bag. While she tried to read, the letters started jumping across the page, and she realised it was the mind playing games and that she would have to do the waiting without any distractions.
While she appeared calm on the outside, her heartbeats were audible in her own ears, and she needed to calm down, or else she would be unable to carry out any conversation. Realising that breathing exercises taught in school could be brought to some use now, she started focusing on her long breaths. This helped but just a little, and only when she was ultimately inside her lungs with the last inhaled whip of air she felt a touch on her shoulder. And there it was again, the heartbeat pounding and the last 5 minutes of breathing exercises down the drain. And she knew it was him.
For a second, she was too sceptical to turn around, unsure what to expect; it's been a long time since they met. Realising that it may seem awkward not reacting sooner may make her look weird. Slowly, she turned around, plastering a fake smile on her face, to find a middle-aged man, slightly bellied and with large almond-shaped eyes, the same brown as hers, but that was not the character that caught her attention. It was the same fake smile they had on their faces. That may have occurred to them, and they ended up giggling. An immediate warmth spread across them; she invited him to sit, and he took the space on the table opposite her. He signalled the old lady for her usual order, and she smiled, acknowledging. They were served with two coffees and two vanilla pastries in a while. And there was a known glitter in both their eyes. The love for homemade French pastries and strong coffee ran in the blood. At the back table of the old French café, a small family reunion happened in an unknown country, miles away from the aboriginal.
Comments