The waiter was supposed to leave.
Why wasn't she leaving?! Lisa couldn't take the waiter breathing down her neck any longer. “Can't you take a hint?” she snapped.
The waiter’s hands were in the air. “Alright.”
Minutes passed, and sweat was beginning to drop down Lisa’s neck. Someone outside was yelling.
Then the café door slammed open.
Luis stumbled in, panting heavily. His shirt was wrinkled, his lip slightly swollen, and he held her bag up like a trophy.
“Lisa!” he called, eyes scanning the room. “Lisa?!”
Lisa pressed her face against the wooden leg.
“I am not here,” she whispered to herself. “I am a chair. I am invisible. I am a chair. I am…”
Luis walked past her table slowly.
He was close.
So close.
Lisa dragged the menu from the table and stuck it in front of her face lik
