She looks at her watch, not for the first time in the past ten seconds, and takes another sip of her tea, which she finished what seems am eternity ago, but can’t be more than five minutes. Or can it? Five more minutes. Maybe he thought it was at nine, not eight. Maybe it was at nine, and she was mistaken. Five more minutes, maybe ten. Then she would give up. On tonight, on him and on online dating. This was not the first time she was checking her watch every other second, and take sips from empty cups.
Again, her eyes scan the cafe.
Anton picks up his phone, and checks Facebook. No new posts to comment on or like. Nothing new in his favorite news apps, too. CNN, BBC, Al Jazeera, France 24, as if the world stood still in the last minute. So much happening, just not in the last 60 seconds. Even his Twitter timeline is only filling up with recycled 140 character messages, which are either uninteresting, boring or too familiar to care about. You could say about his evil ex what you wanted, but at least when they were together, he didn’t look like an idiot loner in a coffee place. She probably wouldn’t even have let him go to one; there was always something to dislike about the things he enjoyed. Ah well, another coffee then. As he waits by the counter for the Barista to do her artist job, he looks around the place. The regular crowd is there. Oh, and that incredibly pretty girl who was here a couple of times before. Always alone.
Their eyes meet, and they almost drown. He orders a cup of thee. Fresh mint, elderflower blossom (syrup is okay when it’s not the season) and a twist of lime peel. A unique drink, for a very special lady. It’s the first time he orders it, but not the last. As they grow old together, he orders it many more times. And learns how to make the perfect cup of Hugo-tea for her.