The Coffee Shop Turning

Two for the price of one today.

Coffee shop sketches.

It was a struggle to smile

Holding the phone

In the crook of her neck.

And when the Barista passed the cup

She barely looked up

Biting her lip,

Touching it lightly,

With a finger tip.

Bright nail polish bled

Into her skin,

She threw a napkin

Into the bin

And stifled a laugh

When the line went dead.

‘Was it something I said?’

She mouthed,

Pulling up a different number.

Perhaps she could talk to a friend.

They all knew

How she had struggled

To accept they were through

And most had grown tired

Of hearing her sorry, sob story.

So she took a sip of coffee

And her pulse began to slow.

She knew the toll

Was beginning to show

On her complexion.

Wearing too much make up

To disguise the truth.

She ate too much chocolate

And skipped proper meals,

Wore a pair of old shoes

With worn down heels,

Her life was coming apart.

‘That’s what I get

For losing my heart.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

She heard the voice

And tilted her head,

Until she realised

It was not the phone

But the man standing alongside,

Her cheeks blushed red.

Gosh! He was cute.

With a charming smile

And a well cut suit.

Perhaps her day

Had taken a turn for the better.

She licked her lips

It made them wetter

And her eye lids began to flutter,

She spoke with barely a stutter,

‘Oh...I’m sorry...it was nothing

I was just thinking aloud.’

She flicked her hair,

And arched an eye brow,

As the sun peeped out

From behind a cloud.

‘But it doesn’t matter at all... not a bit.

Not really...not now.