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florescent light
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I first saw him sitting at the resturant table, eating.
Alone.
I had cooked him a cajoned Haddock fish sandwitch (with fries and slaw).
I wanted to go over to the stranger, gently kiss his cheek, as I whisper in his ear, "You don't have to eat alone, I'll sit with you."
I wanted to pass him by and give him my number, telling him to call me next time he's going to lunch.
Instead, I took my break so I could sit at a table behind him to watch.
I watched his dark hair as he ate. I saw the way his browned, once white sneakers, were crossed under the table.
I couldn't get a good look at his face- but I could make out a goatee and glasses.
He wore a gray hooded sweatshirt, and stonewashed blue denim jeans.
I heard the deep intensity of his voice resonate as he spoke to the waiter. I saw him carefully take his money out of his black leather wallet as he asked for change. I watched how he placed his wallet in his front, not back, pocket.
And I watched his rythmatic laidback strides as he walked toward the exit.
He didn't see me at all.
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010324
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