A cup of Hugo-tea

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.
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