Coffee and Small Talk
295 Words
The next morning, Amara arrived at the café earlier than usual. She told herself it was because she wanted to prepare before the morning rush — but deep down, she knew she was hoping he would come again.
By the time the clock struck eight, the door opened, and there he was — the stranger by the window. He looked slightly surprised when he saw her, as if he hadn’t expected to find her there either.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling a little too quickly.
“Good morning,” he replied, returning her smile with that quiet warmth that made her chest flutter. “Can I have the same as yesterday?”
“One black coffee,” she said, pretending to write it down though she already remembered.
As she handed him the cup, he closed his sketchbook. “You work here every day?”
“Mostly,” she said. “Except Sundays. It’s my only day off.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a nice place. Peaceful.”
“It’s even nicer when people don’t rush,” she teased lightly.
He laughed — and the sound startled her. It wasn’t loud, just soft and genuine, like sunlight after rain.
“I’m Ethan,” he said after a moment.
“Amara,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
They shook hands, and for the briefest second, she felt that same spark again — the strange, quiet connection that had started the day before.
When Ethan left that morning, Amara found herself staring at the empty seat by the window. The café felt different now — warmer, somehow.
She didn’t know what to call the feeling growing inside her. But one thing was certain — she couldn’t wait to see him again.
- Writer
