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Strangers in a coffee shop

It was sunny, early Monday morning in the middle of March when I walked into this lit poor coffee shop in a bad neighborhood in downtown Miami. I could tell I was being watched from the moment I stepped into the café but this is not something I would be surprised about on a daily basis.

I hear the sound of a chair sliding against the woden floor and footsteps hitting the floor. After a moment or so of debating with myself whether I should turn around and take a look or not, I choose to finally do it so. And that’s when I spotted her… The way she walked made the whole room turn to see what shines. She was beautiful but not like those girls in the magazines; you would never say:”ohh, she’s so pretty!” because she looked more like art and art isn’t supposed to be pretty, it’s supposed to make you feel something.

There was no denying her beauty and I couldn’t stop staring while she was walking towards me. I smiled at her and when our eyes met, I just asked her:”Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not safe to turn all the heads like that?”. She quickly stuttered out:”Excuse me?”. She said before blushing a deeper shade of red and looked away: she knew very well what I was talking about…

I grabed my coffee in a hurry and even though I wasn’t planning to stay, I picked a table right across hers just to stare a little more. Her silky, long, dark curls framed her face and fell over her shoulders making a dance; she used her hair as a curtain to hide her strangely beautiful face and the smile… pretty close to perfection. I couldn’t help but want to know who this woman was…

I took out my notebook and my silver pen and started to write whatever came into my mind. I wish I could have paused time that day and take pictures with my eyes. I’m not sure how much time pasted by or how long I sat there in that comfortable silence. It was too beautiful in this damn shabby coffee shop.

I glanced up at her once more and all of a sudden I see her approaching me. She asks me for a cigarette and points at one of the chairs as if she wanted to sit but wasn’t sure if I’m okay with it. I nodded excited and there she was again… one cup of coffee and two smiles away.
“What are you writing about?” she raised her eyebrows while looking over the table at my little journal.

Before answering her question, I first asked myself if I should tell the truth or not but I just let it go…
“You.”

♥ Cristina

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 Photo Credits: Gen Streetstyle

Cristina Mitu

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COMMENT (1)

  1. Nietk 12th April 2016 at 11:20 pm -

    love it!

    Reply

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