A Musician, Maybe
She saw him over the rim of her cup of coffee, the world whirling around his calm, she at the agonizing apogee, and was captivated. Having caught just a glimpse of partial profile, perfect posture and the set of his shoulders, she couldn’t help but to fill in all the blanks of his life and erase the question marks as she lay them down. Handsome? Definitely. Well read, well obviously. A musician, maybe. The man’s dark wavy hair and broad brow were visible above the evening paper he was reading across the shop where he sat by himself, occupying and owning all the space around him with his long legs stretched languidly beneath the table in a manner which said I am at home, in my element, and disinclined to move for a while. She contemplated his hands as they held and dexterously turned the pages, envious of each fortunate one. Those are the hands of a musician, she decided. Yes, she could see it now: large hands with strong tendons branching out across the backs and down to the wrists; wide palms and with the long slender fingers of a pianist. It was too easy for her to imagine him playing Für Elise down the length of her spine… Maybe a harpist, she thought, those graceful fingers that could make the heavens sing playing through her hair like the strings— oh yes, she could see that, too. As she lost herself in a one man symphony, he set down the paper and caught her eye. Her mind mid-lust, she hurriedly cast her guilty gaze to the dark depths of her cup—where she fervently wished to drown—while reheating the contents with the furnace heat from her blush. Then the evening paper, held between graceful digits, appeared by her table’s scuffed surface, and rested at the very edge, stopping her breath and the whirl of the world. After a pause, a voice, softly accented, asked if the seat was taken and would she mind a little company. The woman carefully nudged the chair opposite out towards him with her boot in invitation. If she managed to say anything through her irrepressible smile, it was only heard by her and her companion as the world spun oblivious around them....
TheLunaLily
Add Media
Style