Part I: Her
She sat alone, a to-go coffee cup warming her hands. In this moment, being content in her own company, she didn’t wonder why she was alone. The window directly beside her illuminated her eyes, and highlighted her hair as she observed the life on the other side of the glass. She noticed every detail around her. The cherry wine color of an old man’s sweater, his loving-look to his wife and her returning smile. The precise sound of glasses clinking by those sitting behind her, and the laughter that followed. Even the creak that came from the dark wooden floor, demanding to be heard with the first step through the entrance door, which then shut aggressively behind you. Each time the door opened, a gentle rush of cold air would caress her face; she takes another sip of coffee. The coffee is too bitter, but she sees there are only a few grains of sugar remaining; her gaze travels back out the window.
Across the street, through another layer of glass, a young woman with blazing red curls hands a bouquet of sunflowers and red roses to a man across from her. In exchange, she is given cash, the two smile and wave as the man walks out. A bike blurs past the glass, she was startled for the briefest of moments; she takes another sip of coffee. A taxi stops for a man in a sharp-looking, cold-grey suit, his one hand held high in the air, and the other grasped tightly around a state-of-the-art cell phone, near his ear. A baby sits patiently in a stroller, its mother digging into her purse for her keys. Droplets of water begin to tamper with her view through the glass, and eventually fall with a quickness. She begins to stand, her car in sight. Instead she stays, and takes her last sip of coffee, ignoring its bitterness.
In the midst of observing everyone else, from the old man’s sweater, to the waiters, to women and flowers, she missed what was observing her. There, not far, and it sat as casually as her. She checked her watch, 11:32 AM, the rain persisted. She looked up, and she was no longer alone.
Part II: Him
He walked down the city block alone. Sensing a slight chill in the air, he grasped the opening of his jacket and brought it closer around him. His shoes caused the metal drainage barrier he walked across to clink. Warm air escaped a buildings vent, and he shivered at the sudden change in temperature. Two people on his left began fighting over the taxi that was summoned, car horns drowned their voices as he quickly walked by. His eyes were attracted to a jewelry store on his right, he noticed a couple grinning uncontrollably as the woman outstretched her hand to the older woman assisting them.
He stopped, traffic have picked up; he then crossed the street with the rest who were waiting. His shoelace was untied, and flapped, hitting his jeans as he walked, so he knelt down to retie it, and noticed a perfectly new copper penny in front of him, heads side up. He picked it up for good luck. He continued walking, and as he walked, he combined that lucky penny with other spare change from his pocket and a ten dollar bill, then placing it in the cup an old-homeless man held out to everyone. The old man removed his grey hat to nod to him and thank him three times. He smiled back and continued walking. He looked up, and between the buildings competing for the sky, he saw it darkened, and a very low wind began. He checked his blue-hued, silver watch, 11:15AM, he looked up; a street sign read 89th street. He continued walking.
Ahead of him, a drunk man was thrown out of a bar, the owner shook his fist at him and threatened him to leave. The drunk man stumbled away. Taking a sharp right, he swung open the door to a flower shop and waited at the brightly lit, gold-rimmed counter. He stared through the glass at the vibrant colors of the flowers. The woman behind it, mentioned she would be with him in a moment, and tied her enormous, red curls into a ponytail. He looked around the room, and walked a couple paces forward on the marble floor. A teenage boy with a white apron stood behind another counter, and cut the stems of various flowers, placing them into a long, cylinder bucket, filled slightly with water. A younger woman, with what he imagined was her mother and grandmother, decided on the arrangements of her wedding bouquet. The woman behind the counter gained his attention and retrieved a bouquet of sunflowers and red roses, he paid her and quickly left. He checked his watch again, 11:30AM. He sat on a bench that sat parallel to the street, and rubbed the palm of his hand on his black denim pants. His head travelled back and forth for a moment, and eventually he saw it. The rain finally came, as he expected it would, so he stood, and crossed the street.
Part III: Them
The dark wooden floor creaked, the glass door slammed shut. They immediately noticed each other, and all other things faded from their notice; the old man and his wife, the clinking of glasses, even the waiters buzzing between tables. All that was left was them. She sat straighter and he moved to sit across from her, lessening the distance. They smiled and said hello. He passed the flowers and hoped she would blush, she did.
She called for the waiter, and as she did this, he took in her every detail. Her jeans and sweater. The gentle wave of her hair. Her soft laugh as she thanked him for the flowers, and the way she breathed their scent in. She placed the flowers beside her and looked at him, tracing from his eyes and nervously down to her lap, only to find his eyes again. He swiftly brushed his hand through his dampened hair as she poured them both a cup of coffee. They smiled at each other again and both thought of how happy they were to no longer be alone.
A Series of Observations 
One response to “A Series of Observations: The Original Work”
[…] by a project I wrote in college, which is also posted to the blog here; I felt as though the title resonated with a lot more than just a few words I wrote in an old […]
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