February 17, 2019
an-Americano between nights.
Through any transpicuous windows, the crowds of lamps failed to call you in.
and, how much time more I'll have to wait for us to cross?
Dear universe,
I am waiting for his shadow to pass by.
Let me count, if possible,
The days passed so fast that I might not care of how much times wasted.
For you, an-americano between rains in April.
"He came alone, yesterday, only for a quick take out." this lady behind the counter said as she gave me back my card.
"Who?"
"the owner of that parasol. in your bag, miss..." she replied with smile.
"Really? I can leave this to you? he might come back, he might need it anytime soon."
I, of course wouldn't need her answer to take out the umbrella from my bag.
But the door's bell rang, breaking the silence between us.
"Evening..." the lady greeted a person behind me that automated my neck to more than 90 degrees turn around.
Brown coat.
He. is...
that americano-man.
I raised my hand awkwardly, showing his umbrella right in front of his head.
"Oh?"
He noticed his stuff, right?
"Vanilla? Latte?"
God. his voice traveled to my heart and spur my AV-nodes harshly, rudely. I thought I might faint.
I stepped aside and just nodded foolishly.
"How fortunate, this umbrella would go home, finally." I handed it to him.
"Thank you, what a coincidence."
No-- you rude man, I am waiting for like a decade. No such a thing like coincidence. I disagreed.
Dear universe,
I am waiting for his shadow to pass by.
Let me count, if possible,
The days passed so fast that I might not care of how much times wasted.
For you, an-americano between rains in April.
"He came alone, yesterday, only for a quick take out." this lady behind the counter said as she gave me back my card.
"Who?"
"the owner of that parasol. in your bag, miss..." she replied with smile.
"Really? I can leave this to you? he might come back, he might need it anytime soon."
I, of course wouldn't need her answer to take out the umbrella from my bag.
But the door's bell rang, breaking the silence between us.
"Evening..." the lady greeted a person behind me that automated my neck to more than 90 degrees turn around.
Brown coat.
He. is...
that americano-man.
I raised my hand awkwardly, showing his umbrella right in front of his head.
"Oh?"
He noticed his stuff, right?
"Vanilla? Latte?"
God. his voice traveled to my heart and spur my AV-nodes harshly, rudely. I thought I might faint.
I stepped aside and just nodded foolishly.
"How fortunate, this umbrella would go home, finally." I handed it to him.
"Thank you, what a coincidence."
No-- you rude man, I am waiting for like a decade. No such a thing like coincidence. I disagreed.
I have been waiting for every chance I got to land my ass here, only for a slight hope that I might have a brief companion for a glass of vanilla latte.
"Wait-- I'll place my order."
I frowned that he suddenly stopped me when I was about to walk to my seat.
He peeped through above my head. "Ah, you'll sit there?"
I hummed.
His head turned back to his phone and paid his americano. So what? At least, talk! will you sit with me or how? Geez-- man! That's how rude man is!
The window-seat was the witness, of how we met in one cold rainy day, in April.
People were coming and passing by, but I couldn't find you.
But god pushed you here, to pick your umbrella see me, thank you for coming mr. americano.
