The list of sinners

...Donovan...

The weekend came as a relief for my fatigue. After trying to sleep and set a new record with four full hours of sleep, I decided to have my morning coffee at a café. Perhaps the air outside the surrounding walls of the house would refresh me. The nearest café was Moon's Cape, but I wasn't heading there due to laziness at all.

The real reason was the quality of the coffee they used there that I preferred. Norway has the second highest coffee consumption per capita, with around five million people in the country drinking four to five cups of coffee a day. As an American-Norwegian, coffee was in my blood. I left the house and started walking. Spending twenty-five minutes of road for a cup of coffee didn't bother me.

As I walked, my hair swayed from side to side since I hadn't bothered to style it after the shower. The long mane, too unruly now, was hanging down, and I tried to fix it behind my head, but it was an impossible mission due to the thickness and importance of my hair.

I approached the café and immediately picked a table to sit at. I liked the tables near the window. Many would prefer the center as these tables in these positions were called for "antisocials or sufferers," but that wasn't the case for me. I liked the intimacy it provided; after all, perspective is subjective.

I took off my jacket and folded it neatly, leaving it on the chair in front of me. I took my phone out of my pocket and placed it on the table. Fidgeting, I waited for the waitress to come and take my order, even though they had memorized what I got every time.

I placed the coasters on the table, intertwining my fingers, and let my gaze wander beyond the window. Through the window, I saw a couple talking to each other, looking very happy while holding hands. I took a deep breath and immediately lowered my eyes to the ground, avoiding them.

"Hello, sir, may I..."

"The usual," I quickly interrupted the voice that wouldn't let me sink into my thoughts.

I didn't turn my head towards the waitress, as the voice and her gender dictated. I always found myself facing the flirtations of the girls and didn't like giving false hopes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't understand you?"

This was getting annoying. It seemed like the girl wanted to achieve her goal. I decided to shoot her an annoyed look, but the state that overcame me seemed to come out of nowhere.

"What I get every time is not..."

My words were cut off, and I was left speechless. My heart began to tremble like never before. A very young girl, looking like a fifteen-year-old, stood in front of me with a tray, a girl I had never seen working here, but I had encountered her in the most awkward way possible. I would recognize her anywhere. She was the one who spilled the coffee on me that day. I tried to compose myself and not let her understand anything.

"I apologize... I thought maybe you were one of the old waitresses here."

"No, I'm new."

"Clearly."

"So, what do you usually get?"

"Americano."

"An Americano will be right up."

She quickly walked away to deliver the order. My mouth felt dry from the thirst that overtook me with her departure. I truly felt embarrassed. Yesterday, I spilled the coffee, and today she was serving me the same coffee. I could barely wait to leave and not return. It seemed like I had to bid farewell to quality coffee.

"Here is your order, sir."

I scanned her face like a scanner. I wasn't admiring her features; instead, I was reading her expressions. She appeared calm and had the same smile as the day I embarrassed myself in front of thousands of eyes.

"Thank you."

"Have a good day."

I grabbed the cup with both hands and fixed my gaze on my coffee. I felt guilty. I felt worse than ever. In hell, all my conscience. I tried to forget that moment by drinking the coffee. Somewhat, I began to calm myself by the fact that she didn't recognize me because her head stayed down that day, and she hadn't seen my face.

Despite this, I drank the coffee without any pleasure, as if it were a chore. I started to hastily gather my things and head out. I didn't even put on my jacket; I held it in my hand and approached to pay. Two charcoal eyes wouldn't let me go. I felt my heart beating strongly under the influence of embarrassment.

"I wanted to pay."

"The payment has been made, sir."

"I'm sorry?"

"You don't need to pay, sir."

I couldn't understand what was happening. Where were the hidden cameras now?

"In short, you seem uncomfortable, sir, but don't feel guilty. After all, I owned you a coffee that day but I left feeling confused."

"You didn't have to", said, rubbing my neck.

"It was nothing."

"But how did you know it was me?", I asked curiously.

"Your voice seemed familiar to me, plus my blouse still smells like Americano."

"Really? ", I said. "Well done detective."

She smiled. She wasn't upset or nervous. She was neutral and calm. She wished me a good day and left quickly to attend to orders. Despite meeting twice, we decided to remain strangers until the next chance encounter.