Table for Two

Coffee steaming into the slight wind outside on the terrace. I sit complacently in the iron chair, corrugated to the shapes of vines and flowers. A soft cushion to fall into and a hard metal backing remind me its ok to slouch. And I wait. An empty seat across from me, anxiously waiting to be filled. Taking a sip of coffee, my nerves are calmed and I see the vendor on the corner with his striped red and white umbrella. Hotdogs just won't sell today. A dog scurries along the sidewalk, licking the trash and food thrown against the curb. Both, a reminder of poverty and hunger that I can't and won't taste. But I wait. Strangers had once come to sit when every other chair was occupied. Another single serving friend to go with the single serving cream for the coffee. Both important and cherished for my enjoyment of coffee. The chair is vacant now, beckoning to anyone wandering between the shadows of lamp posts. A silhouette in the distance growing larger. Another passerby and my heart beats back to normal. For each shadow there is hope and disappointment. Yet I wait. Wanting to follow the footsteps laid out in front of my eyes, I wait too complacently.