Matthew watched the woman enter, scan the café, then walk to the table where he sat nursing a cappuccino. She sat down uninvited and looked into his eyes.
“There are other tables,” he said, pleased nonetheless that a beautiful woman he didn’t know and had never seen before had chosen to sit with him.
“Yes.”
Matthew grinned, and feeling rather smug, said, “But you want to sit with me.”
“Will you buy me a latte?” She put her hand on his arm and smiled.
The sound of her voice and her touch thrilled him. “Of course.” He got up, returned with a latte, placed it in front of her and sat down.
She smiled again and said, “Thank you, Matthew.”
Stunned, he said, “How do you know my name?”
She sipped her drink. “I know everyone’s name.” She drank again. “And everyone’s time.”
Comprehension slammed into him. “Oh, no, no, no!”
She stood. “And now is your time, Matthew. We must go.”
“No! I’m not going with you.”
“Take my hand. We will be brave together.”
The barista and the police officer stood near each other and watched the coroner’s team put Matthew on a gurney, cover him with a sheet and wheel him away.
“It was so strange,” the barista said. “He acted like he was talking with someone at his table, but there wasn’t anyone with him. Then he jumped up, took a step and fell to the floor. It was horrible. I’ve never seen anyone die.”
“You never know,” the police officer said.
“You never know what?”
“When it is your time."
Note: The author wishes to acknowledge W. Somerset Maugham and John O'Hara.
“There are other tables,” he said, pleased nonetheless that a beautiful woman he didn’t know and had never seen before had chosen to sit with him.
“Yes.”
Matthew grinned, and feeling rather smug, said, “But you want to sit with me.”
“Will you buy me a latte?” She put her hand on his arm and smiled.
The sound of her voice and her touch thrilled him. “Of course.” He got up, returned with a latte, placed it in front of her and sat down.
She smiled again and said, “Thank you, Matthew.”
Stunned, he said, “How do you know my name?”
She sipped her drink. “I know everyone’s name.” She drank again. “And everyone’s time.”
Comprehension slammed into him. “Oh, no, no, no!”
She stood. “And now is your time, Matthew. We must go.”
“No! I’m not going with you.”
“Take my hand. We will be brave together.”
The barista and the police officer stood near each other and watched the coroner’s team put Matthew on a gurney, cover him with a sheet and wheel him away.
“It was so strange,” the barista said. “He acted like he was talking with someone at his table, but there wasn’t anyone with him. Then he jumped up, took a step and fell to the floor. It was horrible. I’ve never seen anyone die.”
“You never know,” the police officer said.
“You never know what?”
“When it is your time."
Note: The author wishes to acknowledge W. Somerset Maugham and John O'Hara.
