I really like pound cake. In fact, I know that he knows, I will be ordering a slice. I try to be unpredictable and I don’t order it. My soul, heart, mind and stomach curse me.
He gets a call from work and he’s talking about cameras, lenses and things that I have only heard of and sometimes pretend to understand. I stare out, through the glass pane that is protecting us from the noisy traffic. There’s a kid on a bus who is sleeping, a couple that is holding hands and smiling and people just going about their daily lives.
I look back at him, he’s currently laughing, his eyes crinkling at the edges, disappearing under those thick eyelashes. As he fidgets with his hair, so annoying I tell myself, I get lost in the cup of tea that is set in front of me. The sand clock has been turned twice, he still hasn’t hung up the phone. As I begin to turn it again, he looks at me and smiles. And just like that time begins to slow down. Like a moment in slow motion, the sand falls pinch by pinch, taking an extra second to make small peaks inside that glass cage.
He’s saying something and I’m looking at his eyes that widen as he talks. Two cups of tea, a plate of potato wedges and an entire week’s conversation later, we’re ready to leave.
As I begin to rise from my chair he comes back to me, hands me a bag and starts walking away.
I stand there puzzled, asking him what it is, he turns, smiles and says.