Since the beginning of my entirety, for as long as I can remember, on every waking morning, I have visited that bustling café. I didn’t think much of it, till one faithful, indescript day.

That day you started working at the café. I came in, innocent, and I saw you, exuberant amidst the mundane that tried keep you hold. You were beautiful, and inconstrunct. I could not fathom you, and you were right there.

The days spilled from one to the next, the coffee spilled to my lips. You were there every morning, and you served my coffee.

‘Latte,’ you said.

‘Thank you,’ I responded.

One day I thought there were not so many people in that bustling café.

The next, there were fewer still.

Till one day, I walked through the city, void of life, and you were alone in that café.

I approached you.

‘Latte,’ you said.

In your gleaming, heavenly eyes, I thought I could see a plea. I regarded you, the only other in the world. I wondered if they were gone for you too.

‘Thank you,’ I said, and took my coffee.

The next morning, I came to that café, and you were gone too.

20.X.22