Coffee

She was unapologetically beautiful, sitting in the wrought iron chairs of the corner coffee shop. Chocolate hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose spirals. Her delicate features were interrupted only by her wide green eyes, witch were infinitely expressive as they surveyed the world. Hey eyes were her own favorite feature, even though she could never get far in a lie before they betrayed her, while her face broke into its characteristic grin.

She said cross legged in the rain, her graceful hands wrapped around some distastefully expensive coffee drink. Even though there were chairs nearby that were covered by garish umbrellas, and indeed a worn leather armchair by the fire inside, she made no effort to move. She sat so still that rain clung to her dark eyelashes, her makeup smudging in an attractive way.

Her presence at the shop was not entirely unexpected; she had a regular drink and greeted the baristas by name. Even so, the eyes of the casual passerby lingered on her thin frame for too long to be entirely accidental. She looked at the small fraction of the bay she could see from her chair, a small shiver shook her. She had always loved the water, but had been hopeless at swimming lessons. She would kick and kick like they told her to, but inevitably her head would slip below the surface and she would have to be pulled out, choking and coughing.

Her thoughts drifted back to Brian. She shook the water out of her eyes, a motion more to clear his image from her mind than anything else.

"Don't think about that." She mumbled shamefacedly, addressing the steam spirals issuing from lid of her coffee. But there way no denying she missed him…

"It was for the best." The words rang hollow in her ears, no matter how many times she repeated them to herself, they meant nothing. Empty shells of words that might once have had meaning, but for now taunted her with illusions of reprieve. After a while only the dregs of her coffee remained, a sigh escaped her. "No good things last…" The rain had picked up now, the gray and purple clouds swirling ominously above. She afforded this sight one cursory glance before standing to leave. A workmen cat-called to her across the street, she closed her eyes briefly in anger, then wove her way back into pedestrian traffic. She would back at this spot tomorrow, just as she had been here yesterday. You would never see her with a book or newspaper, only a coffee in her graceful hands, and on the rarest of occasions, like today, the sparkle of unshed tears in her wide green eyes.