My coffee had long since gone ice cold, and the baristas were locking up. I sat outside at a table for two. The second seat remained empty.
How long had I been waiting?
The sun had set, and street lights had automatically turned on. I took a sip of my frosty brew somehow thinking it would suddenly be warm.
Had I even been waiting for anyone?
My thoughts were jumbled, hard to define like figures in a dense fog. A figure walks out of the fog and into the light. Perhaps she knows why I’m here.
She sits down beside me.

