Another story with no ending

Reading at the bistro
With espresso in hand
I sip the pungent liquid
Mixing words with flavor
To enhance the book I read
Then she walked past
Fragrance of flowers and Spring
I caught her eye in passing
I lost interest in my prose
I found myself thinking
Of her in conversation
But she bought her coffee
Handed in a paper cup
She ignored my existence
And fled as a pigeon flustered
I turned back to my reading
Another story with no ending