He/ She


I’ve written this one when I was hanging out in a coffee shop all by myself and I started noticing this guy getting antsy and kept on looking at his watch and phone. I figured, “Hey, he might be waiting for his blind date.” and this is where this flash fiction started.

He sips his coffee, one shot espresso. He feels the sudden warmth around his tongue. It reminds him of something; someone. It reminds him of her. He wonders. Where could she be?
She walks along the pavement and gets the last drag out of her cigarette. She holds it; then, blows out the smoke. She enters the café and whips her hair out of her face. She goes to the counter and orders. “Mocha latte over-iced”, she said.
Headphones blaring in his ears, he drowns the world out.At least, he thinks he did. He looks up. A woman with fair complexion and curly hair enters the coffee shop. Is this her? He musters the courage to stand up and tries to call her name but then…
She looks for him. Where is he? Is this he who sits alone in a table for two. She approaches the man. “Is this seat taken?” she said.
She is here.
He is here.


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