Notes On A Lady Drinking Coffee Not A Few Feet Away From Me

I wonder what she does? She doesn't look like she does anything, which means she must be one of that dying but ever so interesting breed known as 'ladies who do lunch'. 

She is dressed extremely nicely and is wearing a silk scarf to set her outfit off. She does not appear to be waiting for anybody - in fact she seems to be very content to simply sit and 'be'. I would guess that she is the same age as my mother, but she is not my mother because I hope that she would at least say hello.

She sees me looking at her but looks away quickly when I don't avert my gaze like polite people would. Now I feel bad because I have made her feel uncomfortable, so I look down into my coffee and stir it again because I can't think of anything else to do. Nobody else in the coffee shop is aware of this because they are too busy being important with their phones - even when they are out for coffee with other people. The coffee shop is upstairs in a bookstore. In the far corner there is a man reading a book on a kindle. He knows this is wrong which is why he's sitting in the corner but he cannot hide his shame even from himself.

The woman who is not my mother reaches into her bag and pulls out a small red notebook and a tiny silver pen - she marks something important in the book and puts them away again. I wonder what kind of a life she is living. My best guess would be that, financially speaking, she is more than comfortable but she looks tired - she has seen everything there is to see and is now nothing but a tourist in her own timeline.

Perhaps she is a writer like me. Sometimes I sit and do nothing in the coffee shop, trying to see into the cracks to figure things out. Perhaps she is taking her cues from J.K. Rowling - coffee shop dwelling and making notes for a future million selling trilogy. It most definitely is not Ms Rowling though, I would recognise her. Having said that, the other drinkers in the coffee shop seemingly wouldn't notice if Harry Potter himself turned up.

I have been here long enough. It's time I moved on but I find I am immobilised and cannot move from my seat. I have heard that sometimes this can happen in the world but never thought it would happen to me. 

You would imagine that for one known as being observational, I would recognise one of the Gods taking a coffee break. I have been written into her Book of Deeds and must now wait for her to decide what to do with me as she plots the remainder of her story.

Around us, human beings fiddle with their mobile devices while Rome is burning in my heart.