In the Coffee Shop

The laugh was close enough. Call it a laugh, he said, but she only smiled. They both put their hands down, on the table. That was close enough, he said, drinking, his cold coffee. No, that was too close. Now they talked, about the candle, about their chairs and table, and the room they were in, about the paintings, on the wall, they were for sale, about the time of day, what was it for, about the two of them, but that was close enough. They both avoided, what they thought the other was avoiding and wouldn’t admit, what it was for they were lost, and there they were. Now there was something to laugh at. Now there wasn’t. But that was the cost, of letting things be, what they are. But what, do you want, to go through this? I don’t want to talk about it, she said, but maybe now, she really did.