The cup burned her fingers as she dashed towards an empty table in the middle of the café. She knew she had to hurry, as there weren’t many empty seats left. It was early in the afternoon on a Saturday, and her shift had only just ended. This was her little piece of heaven, drinking an all-too-expensive cup of coffee and people-watching. She set her umbrella on the floor, and a tiny puddle started to form. It had just started to rain when she left work, and she knew it would be a full-on storm by the time she was done with her drink. But that was a worry for another moment, conveniently not yet here.

The first sip of coffee was heavenly, and she feared the day when the owner, an old lady who rarely smiled at anyone, decided to close down the shop. She snickered when a memory surfaced: a couple Saturdays back a young man had tried to convince the old woman to smile even the tiniest bit. “You pay for me to make you coffee, not smile! Now order a coffee or get lost!” Nobody could breathe until the young man had finally placed his order. Only she had noticed the sliver of a grin finding its way to the old woman’s lips when he stepped outside and declared that one day, she’d smile for him. She really hoped to be present when the young man decided to come in for another round.

She was yanked back to reality by a very familiar tune. It was one of those popular hit songs with an energetic tempo that seemed more fitted for the dance floor. She looked around and found a woman, about her age, frantically looking for her phone. She was dressed to impress, and her haircut didn’t seem a day overgrown. As she finally managed to fish her phone out of her designer bag, the ringing had stopped. With an audible curse, the woman tapped the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello, it’s Anna, you called!” The tone in her voice was a tad too happy to be genuine.  Sipping her coffee, she continued to watch the woman now deeply immersed in the phone call. The tapping of her feet against the floor was the only thing betraying any emotion – the noise almost like a spell keeping her calm. Her shoulders slumped as she was listening to whomever was speaking to her, and she looked to be on the verge of tears. “I’m aware. Yes, I know and I’m sorry. But…” This seemed like a much too private moment to eavesdrop any further.

She enjoyed doing this. Watching people and noticing these little details that could potentially reveal to her something about the other person. A cup hit the table with a loud bang on the table to her left. A middle-aged couple dressed in matching colors were glaring at each other.

“You mean to tell me you met them again?!”

The tone of the voice was dripping with acid. Who was this they? Had the other one cheated? Or was this they perhaps a no-good friend? Sipping her coffee, she continued to watch the couple argue discreetly. The shorter one of the two was doing their best to avoid eye contact, all the while pleading to their partner.

“Honey, you know I love you!”

She could tell she was witnessing a life-altering moment. Those two people, who would walk out soon would not be the same people who had walked in mere minutes before. She was no longer the only one watching as their voices gained momentum. The table squeaked hard against the floor. The taller one was now standing and shaking with rage. This clearly came as a surprise to the other as they had gone pale and seemed to shrink ever further into their seat.  

“Did you really think I wouldn’t make a scene? Is that why you insisted on coming here?!”

“SILENCE!”

Ah, this time however, she would not find out the whole story. The loud screams had also gathered the interest of the café owner who rushed to the scene. “OUT! This is a place for peace and coffee, not screams and coffee!”

The couple wasted no time. They were out the door in seconds, full cups left on the table in their wake. She watched the now inaudible argument continue as the couple got drenched in the storm that was gathering its strength. The café owner was huffing to her left, cleaning the table for another couple looking for a place to sit. She glanced at them for a few moments, but they did not hold her interest. The man was talking about finances and the woman looked bored out of her mind. Probably a first date going horribly wrong.

She was only halfway through her drink. As her mind and gaze wondered, she noticed a tired looking older man in the corner table near the toilets. There were two cups of what seemed like tea (based on the teabags lying on the table) in front of him and he was looking down at his hands. Perhaps his companion was in the toilet or arriving soon. He was wearing a ring on his ring finger. Perhaps this was the start of date night. Before she could move on, he turned to his side and started talking loud enough for her to hear.

“Did you see that, angel?” the man said to the air next to him.

She didn’t quite catch the next few sentences as the finance guy was getting excited about his stocks... or something. But it seemed like the man was telling a story of some sort. He was getting more and more animated with each passing minute just like the storm was getting louder outside. Rain was hitting the windows violently – an umbrella would not help her anymore. She sipped her coffee silently while listening to the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop. But she could not take her eyes off the older man. He looked rough yet polished. Life clearly had not been the easiest for him. There was a long scar on his forearm that looked somewhat fresh. Still, he seemed to be wearing an older, ill-fitted black suit and was definitely polite. A moment ago, the woman on the date with Mr. finance had made a hasty escape to the bathroom and bumped into his table. When the woman apologized, he had just smiled amicably. What was his story, she wondered as he continued his seemingly one-sided conversation.

She startled as her phone buzzed in her pocket. Had she forgotten about something? She found a text from her roommate reminding her to grab oat milk on her way home. Well, her coffee was cold anyways, so perhaps it was time to get going.

“Why are you not here with me anymore, Angel?”

She heard a sob from the corner table. The man was now holding a crinkly picture with tears in his eyes. The owner was sitting next to him, softly consoling him. As they quietly murmured together, his tears slowly mixed with chuckles and tentative smiles.

Quietly she gathered her things and drank the last of her coffee.

The noise died down as she stepped on the street. For a moment she just stood there as the storm surrounded her. All she could hear, and feel was the rain. Everything seemed surreal around her as she began the short and familiar walk home.

Photo by Clem Onojeghuo