Coffee Stranger

Unlike most, I hadn't noticed her as she walked in.  My nose was deep in a book as she ordered her drink.  She sat down as my eyes lifted from the pages, and we shared smirks from the corners of our lips.  We hurried away from awkwardness with the breaking of eye contact - I tried to escape with my book - but I wanted to see her ... so I glanced again.

Simple black shoes on crossed legs.  A knee length skirt showed only barely from beneath a long sophisticated khaki jacked - still buttoned - her purse still tucked under-arm.  She wasn't staying long.  Her long sandy hair half up, half down, ornately tied behind her head the same way the rest hung over the side of one shoulder.  Blue eyes, I remember, that now looked around the room, trying to seem busy as she waited.  She must've known that I had noticed her, more than just an object.

Her coffee came, was placed on the counter nearest me.  She took it, already leaving, walking off into the rain.  And I wondered who she was, and why she wasn't staying.