(Hour 2 of 24) “cuppa connection”

The White Stripes blasting in my ears,

palms slapping a relentless tattoo,

fingers strumming an invisible guitar,

the music builds to a crescendo,

and I am a go…


“Excuse me, you are next,” she taps my elbow.


I turn sharply and see this vision, this russet-flamed goddess.

with round glasses that accentuate her cerulean eyes,

the tiniest of wrinkles that relay her joie de vivre,

and her little smile as she humours my slack-jawed reaction.


“Er, um, thanks, sorry, thanks,” I mutter and stutter in embarrassment.


I step forward to greet the grinning barista.

I convey my order, God knows what it was.

I am ever conscious of her beguiling presence.

This invisible force that compels me to look, once more.


I do, and she is not there.

I swivel and scan.

I locate her belatedly.


She is already out the door, phone on ear,

laughing gaily, a lilt in her voice

going forth into the unknown.


She leaves my life.


And I, bereft, return to mine.


© 2021 S Phua

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