Just Waiting On A Friend
The water was calm and the sky was cloudy, but the temperature was not cold. The air was a cool humid and I could taste it. I rested my elbows on the rough splinter laden railing and looked over the bay. I hadn’t noticed that there had been fog earlier, but if I strained my eyes I thought I could catch a glimpse of the final wisps rolling out to find the sea. My nose felt cold but the rest of me was comfortable in my gray, bulky sweater and worn blue jeans. My hair was down and stringy from the droplets of invisible moisture that hung in the air. The dampness clung stubbornly to me and to other surfaces within its’ reach. There was no breeze and the serene bay insisted that my spirit be calm. It beckoned to my mind to be still. I opened myself and accepted the tranquility. And I waited. Time stretched before me as well as behind me. I paused in the moment. The sun half heartedly tried to push its’ way through the mass of unyielding clouds, but soon tiredly abandoned the attempt. A lone gull screeched with purpose and my eyes unconsciously searched for the source without really seeing. I listened absently to the content whirr of a slowly progressing boat mingling with the quiet laughter and subdued voices of the passengers. And I waited. There was not boredom, only being. This stillness would be a memory soon piled under ever pressing everyday routines and other more dramatic life events that would require my attention. Or perhaps this moment would be lost and forgotten as though it had never existed at all.
A raindrop spattered upon my hand and I stared as it leisurely slid between my fingers and out of sight. I looked up and watched increasingly more intricate ripple patterns begin to form upon the bay.
I will continue my wait for you in the café. If I go now, I will not become too wet. I will enter into the enveloping aromas of coffee bean and sweet thick vanilla and content my being with a comforting cup of coffee and await your warm conversation.