One Second of love
I cannot pass this place by. I just cannot. So, I always stop for a while and get myself and get myself a cappuccino, no, a latte. I like how both names sound, not to mention the taste but when they bring me a small round cup instead of a tall glass, I know immediately that I said cappuccino instead of latte. I do not mind but latte is better. Once a girl thought I was speaking French and she hear “la tee” probably and brought me tee. I did not mind either, so much for all these small misunderstandings as long as they do not lead to war. Sometimes a shelling of a boiled egg can lead to a protracted conflict.
I ordered a latter and got what I wanted. Tall glass with a long spoon. The café was empty so I chose a place and settled comfortably even if for 20 min, I am going to enjoy every second.
It is interesting what kind of people you see outside before 12 on Thursday. First of all, they are tourists. You can tell from the way they walk – slowly and cautiously. Not all walk that way, some just want to compare what they see with the picture in their guidebook. Some look up, some look down and some look everywhere. Like this man. From his rucksack I can tell he is a somewhat of a professional photographer. He is inspecting a door of the café I am in and taking shot after shot, In a second of vanity I thought he might see me in the window and take a picture, so I started mixing my latte with a postcard fascination on my face.
He is not interested in portrait photography and he had his reasons, for the door was beautiful, set in the pale blue medieval wall. He walked in. Tall with tones of equipment in his hands, on his shoulder and attached to his rucksack. He ordered a latte slightly hesitating with the name. May be he also has the same cappuccino – latter confusion. The he looked at the vast choice of chocolate; in all shapes and forms.
- It is really hard to choose, - he mutters to himself.
I looked from above my book at the choice of chocolate and then at him. I had not idea what they had to offer. Within the range of my visibility I spotted a candy with an almond on top.
- The one with the almond is really good.
The man turned to face me but I did not meet his gaze.
- All right, the one with the almond it is, - he said. I still did not look as he sat down next to my table, stabled his rucksack, placed his latter and an almond candy on the table, sat down, took his camera and started taking pictures.
I was reading and observing him from the corner of my eye.
- Let’s try the almond one, - he said. I looked up as now he was addressing me directly,- mmmm, lovely, with a slight hint of alcohol in it.
- Yes, yes, it is, - muttered I, - tastes differ but sometimes you know… - I never finished that sentence. Sometimes what? They are similar?
- I packed my bag, put my coat and hat on, not looking anywhere but on what I was doing.
- Have a good day!
- You too, thank you.
- Good bye.
I would not probably recognize him and may be he would not recognize me either it we meet again. I was walking down the street with a very broad smile on my face.
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Tetyana Kasima.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 19.01.2011.