Love at a Glance

He sits there quietly enjoying his coffee. He types on his iPhone, plugging in his thoughts into a digital format. His breathing is slow, his heart is calm. He can hate lots of things in this world, but not at this moment. He loves his coffee, it's the calm before the storm. The relaxing moments before the caffeine kicks in, and his brain goes into overdrive. This is the moment he lives for, and is loving his life through it. It seems to him that everyone understands an unspoken code of silence. He can't imagine how life could be better than this. Until he sees her eyes.

He has never seen a women so beautiful in all his life. The way her hair hugs her head, the way her eyes glisten in the sun light, this women is perfect. Even the way she walks is memorizing. His coffee is perfect too, he's not going to ruin the one, for the other. His heart beat is excellerated, his palms are starting to get clamy. The best moment of his life is slipping past, and stealing away from him. If he doesn't get it under control, and quick, he will lose everything he has worked so hard for. 'Pull it together David, she's not interested in you.' He reminds himself, 'Your here for coffee, not a peep show. You need to focus on what matters.' He puts his eyes on his phone and starts typing again. He remembers what he was thinking about, and his thoughts roll off his thumbs like water off of an icecube. And he is back, his world is complete again.

This nagging feeling keeps pulling his head way from the phone. This annoying thought of her cheekbones, and her forehead keep poping back up. It's like she is bewitching him. She is holding his mind hostage, he has to break free. Without lifting his eyes, he can feel her smile brighting up the room. 'How could one women have such an effect?'

The battle raging in his head is pouring words into his phone. His heart is pounding as she walks past the table. Her perfume vanquished the smell of espresso and steamed milk. The smell he associated with peace and tranquility is the forgotten past. All that remains is the smell of flowery seduction. He lifts his cup to his nose, nothing. He can feel his strength leaving his hands, his certainty of confidence is shaking. He wants nothing more than to go back, to before he laid his eyes upon her. But it's too late, similar to Medusa, you can't take back a glance.