A laugh in a sea of voices. Like a gurgling fountain, an infant tickled on its stomach, otters splashing in a creek. It draws Sean from the depths of the pages. The distant hum becomes distinct sounds. Cars driving down the street, a waiter setting a mug on a glass table, a bird flitting by overhead, the clatter of feet on stones and chatting voices. Sean looks up at the world moving on around him. His hand crinkles the page.

Where is the laugh? His eyes dart from face to face, to the street, across it, up to the floating leaves speckled by the bright blue sky above. He cannot place it.

There it is again, clear, unmistakable, a gem amidst the coals.

He sees her. Hidden behind the head of a man typing on a laptop. Her bright blond pony tail wags back and forth as her head floats with the laughter.

The beat of his heart rises. So long has it been… so long.

She stands, tall and thin, long arms reaching out to hug the other woman. So graceful, so elegant. 

She walks toward him, her purse dangling at her hips, her breasts flowing to the rhythm of her long strides.

He looks down to his book. There are no words upon it, just an inky blur. He fingers his Danish, filling oozes from the teeth mark.

Her steps, soft, resolute, firm, come closer, grow louder, trebled by the patter of his heart.

They stop. She stops. The world stops.

“Sean! Hi!”

Oh, no. No, no, no.

He looks up and smiles. “Hi, Cassie.” How did he do that?

Her purse swings to her bosom and she cradles it. “How are you, Sean? It has been so long! Is work still good? Are you still at….” Her eyes roll upward as she thinks.

“Yes. Yes I am.” A rock flashes brilliantly from her fingers. It is huge. It is a behemoth. It is the Titanic and Nessie and the Starship Enterprise.

“Oh, good!” So white her teeth, so tempting her smile, so alluring…

“So, uh…. Are you…?” He wags his finger at hers.

“Oh, this. Yes, I am. It is lovely, isn’t it?” She holds her finger to the sky, inspects it, basks in its glow.

“Yes.” Silence. She yet admires it, looks back into his eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose, holds his gaze. She opens her mouth to say something, he cuts her off.

“So you’re married.” The faintest hint of a question. The tiniest thrust of accusation.

“Engaged. Next month. Isn’t it exciting?” She giggles and her head protrudes forward like a tortoise.

“I’m happy for you.” His voice sounds disingenuous even to himself. His skin tingles. He stirs his coffee.

“Thank you. What are you reading?” She bends down as if to read the print and not the title.

“A… book.” What was he reading? He dare not peek at the cover. He dare not lose face. He dare not get lost again in those infinite blue eyes.

He turns his gaze to her, pushes his glasses up his nose. She smiles warmly. No teeth. Only sparkling red lips in a gracious curve. He holds the book up to her face.

“It looks nice.” She nods, smiles again. He smiles back, sets the book down. It is nice.

“I’ve gotta be going. It was nice talking to you again, Sean.” She turns to walk away.

“Yes… it was. Have a nice day.” He stumbles over his words. Where is she going? Why must she leave?

She waves as she strides away. Ponytail glittering in the sunlight, flopping back and forth. Slender curves bending and molding and flowing about her. Buttocks sliding  in rhythm to her steps. Shoulders rising and falling.

She melds into the crowd. She is gone.

He stares at that sacred place, that spot where last she was. Stares until the people are gone, and the cars are gone, and the trees and the wind and the voices and the coffee is all gone. Only a stillness remains, an eternal, monstrous stillness. There is nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

It floods back upon him like a deluge. He snaps, eyes dart around, body remains calm. He looks at his hands. A Danish rests in one, a book in the other.

He lifts the Danish to his mouth, rests his vision on the clear, taut words etched in the page. He resumes.