"Make a wish, Y/N."
"But why?"
"It's 11:11. It's supposed to be a lucky time."
-
I sipped my drink delicately, typing away on my laptop. There was an essay I needed to finish by 12 o' clock sharp, and it was already past 11:00.
As I glanced at the clock placed on the aesthetic white walls of the cafe, bells chimed, signaling that someone entered.
A small guy wrapped in a scarf way to big for his size walked into the cool cafe and stood right in front of the door. His outfit was strange, seeing how it was burning outside. While most people opted out for shorts and tank tops, this man was dressed fully in winter clothes, top to bottom.
The clock read 11:11.
He stayed in front of the door, his brown eyes looking around the place, scanning everyone's face carefully. I was glad I was sitting in the back since I knew I wouldn't be visible from where he was standing.
When the minute hand moved slightly, the man exited the building without buying anything. The strange thing was, nobody seemed to notice him.
I shrugged and went back to typing, not wanting to waste my time. Occasionally taking a sip of my Caramel Macchiato, I continued to work on the essay, revising and making it less boring.
At exactly 11:59, I submitted my essay and stretched. I've been typing all day, and my fingers were tired.
Tidying up my table and putting my laptop in my bag, I stood up to head home.
-
The next day, I was back in my usual seat in the cafe, scribbling down some notes on my notebook. I tried to focus on my task, but all I could think of was the magic time 11:11.
Ever since I was a little kid, I never believed in things such as Santa Claus or Tooth Fairies, but something about 11:11 felt different.
As I pondered over my thoughts, the door opened, and the same man from yesterday walked in. I didn't think much of it first, figuring that he was probably lost and looking for someone. He glanced around the cafe once more and headed out after exactly one minute.
When I checked the clock, it was 11:12.
-
Every single day, I went back to the cafe, and every day, he was there, the mysterious man that was draped in winter clothes whom nobody seemed to notice. Those days turned to weeks, and weeks started turning into months before I knew it.
Pretty soon, it was the middle of autumn, and I started dressing a bit warmer.
Wrapping a scarf around my neck, I headed out to the cafe for a nice cup of Caramel Macchiato.
-
As I sat alone at a table, a man entered the shop. It was the same guy from before, and he hadn't changed one bit. Curious, I decided to speak to him.
But of course, being the antisocial freak I was, I chickened out at the last moment and the mysterious man left once more. Sighing, I sat back down and tried to think of a good way to talk to a person who only entered the building for a minute every day at exactly 11:11.
Then, an idea popped into my brain. Quickly, I started writing in my notebook.
-
The next day, Jimin entered the shop like always at exactly 11:11. His warm brown eyes scanned the place, half on his face hidden by his scarf. Then, his eyes landed on a folded piece of paper on the floor. Hesitantly, he picked it up.
