Words By Mitchell S. Bork

Alone she sat on a stool in an empty diner with a cup of coffee and a croissant when I walked in. I could see immediately that there was something fleeting about her presence. It was as though she was a ghost that I would only see once, but when I sat down on the barstool next to her I knew that she was more real than the tile beneath my feet. I said hello.

There was a certain music about her that I couldn’t quite read but the tune was of the blues, and I couldn’t stop listening.

“What brings you here?” I asked.

“A man I love.”

“I hope I didn’t take his place.”

“You did”

“Allow me to order a coffee first, if you don't mind.”

“Allow yourself.”

I took my seat and had my coffee and a sandwich; taking my time reading the Times. When I was ready to leave she was still there alone. On my way out I stopped to chat.

“He must be running late.”

“I don’t think he’s coming,” She relied.

“Well that’s a mistake on his part.”

“Kind of you to say, but I am not interested in pity.”

“I have no interest in offering pity.”

“Well, what then.”

“Just wanted to know why you’re waiting on a man thats not coming.”

“I’m studying.”

“I don’t see any books.”

“I’m studying the human condition. Heartbreak is part of that you know.”

“For you,” I said, “There need not be. Farewell.”

I left. But continued thinking about how there was no longer steam rising from her coffee, and what a fool whoever that man was to leave her waiting. I heard her call out to me from the doors of the coffee shop. I trudged on. I realized we all must study such a lesson at one point or another. It was my turn.