She was sitting in the corner

The rain came down hard that day. Like all the days that week. Everyone was covering their heads with umbrellas or newspapers, depending on their level of optimism. She was not one of them.

She was sitting in the corner. I knew it was her right away, even though she had cut her hair and it was frizzy from the rain. Sitting down on the nearest stool, I didn`t take my eyes off her. It was crowded in the little diner, but as luck would have it, there was a clear path between us. She was hunched over a cup of coffee. Cold, I presumed. I had never quite figured out why, but she liked to drink her coffee slowly, sipping it between her lips and licking them after every sip. I had to smile to myself. It reminded me of something.

Her blue, leather jacket looked even older today. It didn`t welcome the rain. But she did. Her heavy make-up was running down her still wet cheeks. I had an overwhelming urge to wipe it away with my thumb, like I used to do when she was still warm to me. It would run down my finger to the back of my hand, and form beautiful lines down my wrist, circling around the little hairs. At one particular, glorious afternoon, she licked it off, leaving beads of saliva instead. The memory made my eyes watery.

The waitress poured me a coffee, never taking her eyes off my frozen face. I lifted the cup to my lips and closed my eyes. I imagined that the warm puddle resting on my tongue, was made of the same drops that she licked off her lips. When I opened my eyes, she was gone. The chair she had been sitting on was still damp from her rain-drenched jeans. I looked around the diner in wild desperation, but all I saw was the rest of the world.

She was sitting in the corner. And then she was gone.