There was an intellectual man who would often visit a local cafe to drink coffee and read the newspaper. A place devoid of the troubles and misfits that his office job entailed him, it was his sanctuary of sorts. The peace was something he relished every morning.
This changed when he was one day approached by a strange, peculiar girl.
She was, like the man, a young adult, who had presumably recently graduated from whichever college she had attended. Despite her blonde locks of hair and attractive choice of fashion, her charm lied in the childish expression which she held consistently.
Peering up from his newspaper, he met eyes with the creature that had taken its seat on the other side of the round table.
"Is there something you want, young lady," inquired the man.
"Say, mister, what do you think about autumn?"
"Why would you need to know that? Is this for a survey, or a personal project, that you need to work on?"
"It was a simple question mister, what do you think about it?"
Silence fell between the two, mostly brought about from the man's hesitation to answer. Who is this mad woman, who dared to approach me during my precious, and rare, time of peace, he thought to himself. Is she lost? Is she a lonely person who is seeking out the comfort of strangers? He reassured himself, that maybe he would entertain her, just for a while.
"I think-" the man replied, "that autumn is a very comfortable season. I believe it's quite melancholic, considering that the leaves are falling, losing their vibrant greens, but that in itself also lends it a subtle amount of beauty. Oranges and yellows, I would say, are colours that are soothing to the eye - it makes me feel quite warm inside."
Maple leaves fell gently outside the glass pane beside the man, beckoning him to observe the beauty of the autumn he lived in. He counted the fallen leaves on the cobblestone walk path, seemingly endless and abundant.
"You kind of talk like a book, mister."
Her blunt reply caught him off guard; just enough to make him chuckle to himself.
"Well, I have to go, there are a lot of things I have to do," the girl explained, "I might see you again tomorrow."
Strapping her bag onto her back, she abruptly made her way out of the cafe. Amidst her hurry, a keychain snapped from its string and fell on the table: it was a small plushie of a strange looking white bear, most likely from a cartoon of some sort.
Before he could call out to the girl, she had already left his sight. He picked up the keychain, placing it between his finger tips and rotating it in a way that it would make a repetitive, circular motion. I may hold onto this and give it back tomorrow, he thought. It's a simple task I wouldn't forget - I'm not that silly.
The next morning, he made his usual routine, making his way to the cafe to rejuvenate himself before heading to work. Silently waiting with coffee in hand, the girl, just as expected, came and sat across him, this time with an admittedly cute looking beret on her head. Preventing the man from saying anything, she opened the conversation talking about an art project that she had been working on tirelessly. Indifferent to her situation at first, he eventually found himself interested in her work, browsing through the portfolio that she had brought with her.
They bid their farewells, the girl swiftly manouvering through the numerous tables and chairs in the shop. With a silly smile on his face, he realised that he had forgotten to give back the plushie that had fallen off of her bag the previous morning. What a fool I am, he thought to himself. I will surely give it to her first thing tomorrow morning!
In spite of his efforts, he couldn't help himself but to merely go along with the girl's whims, talking about what ever topic would pop up in their minds. He found that they had even begun conversing about the strangest things - subjects that he never would have thought he had the joy of chattering of. Over time, they even started throwing banter at each other, as their familiarity of each other became closer and closer. Embarrasingly, he found himself infatuated with this woman.
But he never found the chance to give the plushie back to her.
It was during one morning that he strongly declared to himself, that he would, after these past few months, surely return the key chain to her. From the moment he walked through the doors, sat down, and made his order, he kept on his mind the plushie he would return.
Though she was slightly later than usual, he did not give up hope, and sat patiently, waiting for the girl to come. His mind was especially clear on that morning, and he had every intention on keeping it in that state for as long it would take until her arrival.
Countless minutes passed, and there was no sign of her. At the end of his morning, it seemed that she did not come. Well, no matter, he reassured himself, I'll come back tomorrow morning, just like usual, and wait for her once again.
Again, he tried, sitting by, letting the leaves fall. But still, she did not come. Moronically, he had not exchanged contact information with her, or any sort of method of communication outside of their coffee sessions. Holding onto hope though, he tried again the next morning.
Consecutively, the girl did not show up, for the past few days. Blindly, the man continued his daily routine, in hopes that she would one day return to claim back the plushie she had ignorantly lost. Rather, he waited in hopes that he would be able to talk with her once again, and lighten up the drab days he persistently trudged through.
She never came back.
---
fin
