Coffee for Two

Fleetwood and Macchiatos

Isn't it cliche that you fell in love with my best friend? That you gave her that very same look at the very same rose covered coffee shop? When she laughed at a joke I said to you. Your beautiful eyes never left hers as you both spoke quietly over her Mocha Latte.

I was alone. Again.

The concrete angels prayed on the clear glass tables, watching in what seemed to be fondness at you two. I don't think the cherubs ever enjoyed my company. Their prayers were as invisible as your love for me. You brushed off the autumn leaves that clung to her burnt orange sweater and laughed again. The leaves had clung to her and so had you.

My Caramel Macchiato had grown cold. So cold.

I couldn't speak up. My feet were cold. Frozen in a cycle. They hadn't moved in a long time. Fleetwood Mac began to play and my heart skittered to a stop but the ambient noise of the coffee shop followed through as if nothing happened. As if the alignment of the stars were out of whack. And the planets never twisted sideways. The moment of singularity has stop and serendipity has become an enemy. Life continued to move on, the angels continued to pray, the birds continued to sing and you...

Continued to laugh.