in the shop

she dropped her keys three times before breaking into the tea shop, but she decided she would have a good reading because three is a good number. to amuse herself and make up for lost time, she flung her body on the counter and rolled behind it to her tea leaves, like a slightly faster action movie. gingerly uncapping the jar, she rubbed the leaves between her fingers until some of them broke into her favorite mug. holding onto the mug full of warm water while it steeped made her sleepy so she closed her eyes. she thought about him in his city that wasn't this city, in a bed that wasn't her bed, and in a life that wasn't her life. upon a long exhale, she knew the tea was done, and looked straight ahead.

on the other side of a plate of floor to ceiling glass, on the opposite side of

the street, was a very normal looking man, with the exception of his stillness. he could have been confused for a lamp post if he had one leg and wasn't wearing a hoodie. he was looking straight at her and he looked scared, or perhaps he looked like nothing. startled, she dropped the mug, her favorite one. it shattered and the hot water burned her toes (she likes to remove her shoes when she's alone). she was startled and jumped and took off her socks and by the time she looked up again he was gone. she looked down. each individual dredge was pointing in the same direction, like a sad magnet that couldn't lie even if it wanted to.