small town

A Sitting Place — Part 3


A bench in the shade beneath a tree was where Margaret agreed to meet Stan. The sun was still above the skyline but in the hours that followed the commuting traffic home. Stan arrived first to the black cast iron, heavily painted, and aging bench that had become loosely bolted to the brick lain courtyard floor. Behind the bench sat a tidy flower-bed of a simple arrangement and overhead a blossoming tree in the spring. He brought a green tea for her and a coffee for himself.  Hers sweetened with a touch of honey, his straight black.  They had both finished Flaubert’s Madame Bovary since their last meeting. She in its original French, he in the translated English. They were both looking forward to discussing and sharing thoughts. She was running late, and he sat patiently with his paperback copy on his lap.  As the sun dropped below the skyline and behind the horizon of that, a cool breeze settled in. The street lights flickered on, the green tea cold. He finally rose to his feet when it became obvious she wasn’t about to show.


Tea and Coffee — Part 2


Having enjoyed their first encounter, Margaret and Stan met for tea and coffee. It was an early evening meeting as they had both worked the preceding hours of the day. The hour was nearing dusk, the lights above the tables had been lowered for the evening, and a soft melody gently filled the silent spaces. The venue was rather busy, but neither of them would hardly notice. She had an Earl Grey, he a coffee. Hers was had with milk and sugar, his straight black. They each had a scone with a local blackberry jam. They shared brief talk of their day but quickly moved to stories of life, literature and experiences. After finishing a second cup, they again took a stroll along the river. At the conclusion of the walk, he walked her to her door. It had been ages since either had experienced a moment such as this and yet, it felt familiar. Having already had their fill of tea and coffee, she made plans for the day after next. She gave him a small kiss on the cheek and slipped inside. They still had plenty of time.


First Meals — Part 1


The first time Margaret and Stan met for a shared meal, it was at a small table draped in a red and white checkered vinyl tablecloth. The type that wipes easily and is backed with a teased white matted backing fabric so that it has an ever so lightly cushioned feel, to which it retains the traces of the dishware even after they’ve been taken away. She had an omelette and he a Belgium waffle. Both plates were picked at nervously and the pair of coffee cups topped off numerous times. Hers was mixed with half & half, his straight black. When a lull in the conversation occurred, notes were compared on the various local businesses that adorned the placemats that their plates had previously rested upon. It was agreed that the featured chiropractor was no good, however the dentist was rather reasonable. Later the discussion turned to the likeliness of them having met previously, it was a rather small town after all. Once the bill was paid, they took a stroll along the river.