Rose: A Short Story

ROSE

It was just another morning in Toronto. The air was crisp and chilly, mostly from the cool breeze that fluttered through the busy streets that defined the downtown area. It was quite a busy morning; people tapping their gloved fingertips onto the brightly defined screens of their cell phones, cars sprawled on to the streets trying to get here and there, pigeons scouring for food scraps as they prepared for the winter months. And in a small corner of a plaza sits the small coffee shop where I happen to be present.

I had just been seated while I removed my jacket and hat. I slid my scarf and gloves into the front pocket of my jacket in exchange for my cellular phone. I unlocked it, and quickly opened my news app. Taking a large, much anticipated sip from my cup of piping hot coffee, I scrolled through the endless pages of news my city had to offer today. I don't know what fascinated me so much about reading the news in a paper rather than watching the reporters on television, but it was certainly something I enjoyed every day. Finishing what was left of the crispy toasted bagel I had been served, I shut my phone off to be greeted by a small bell that could only be recognized as the shop door being opened. The customer walked in, and immediately went up to the counter to place her order. She was absolutely mesmerizing. Long, shimmery strands of bright red hair were peeking out from the black knit cap she tucked the rest behind. Her skin was fair, and she had distinct freckles spread across her cheek and nose bridge. The woman reached for her coffee, and I expected her to turn away and continue with her busy day, but she turned my direction and began to calmly walk towards my table.

"Is this seat taken, sir?" The woman's hand gently motioned towards the empty seat in front of me. I was about to put my laptop bag there to rest, but this is the first time I've sat with somebody in this lonely coffee shop. I decided to enjoy it.

"No, this seat is vacant. Please have a seat, you look cold!" I replied with a smile as she thanked me and began to remove her gloves and coat.

Underneath her autumn attire was a beautiful dress covered in pink roses, which was the first thing my eye caught.

"Your dress is certainly gorgeous, I must say." I begin to stutter as the long awaited words escape my mouth.

"Why thank you, it used to belong to my mother. She loved roses, and I guess that's were I've got it from." The woman replies. Her mouth stretches into a subtle grin. Her smile is beautiful. Everything about this woman is perfect to me.

"May I ask your name?"

"Rose. My name is Rose." She replies.

I could go into exact detail of our whole conversation, but that would take a while to write, and it could drag on. We talked about ourselves a bit, shared our interests and such, and we both had an amazing time together.

Just as Rose was about to leave, she slipped me a napkin. The napkin had small roses along the edge, and it was neatly folded horizontally. She smiled and waved goodbye, then started to stroll towards the bus stop, where the TTC whisked her away into the day.

•

For a few days after, Rose became a regular customer. Every time she walked in she would always have a large smile sprawled from ear to ear. We would always arrange to meet at that same table, at the same time. We had a great time. We both enjoyed each other's company (as well as the coffee that kept us awake for hours at night talking through Skype with each other) and I began to grow feelings for her. I knew she was perfect for me.

The next day, I asked Rose out to dinner. Afraid that she would be afraid and run away (after all, we had only known each other for about a week) she gripped herself as her eyes filled up with tears of joy and said "I'd love to."