A Little Pick Me Up

Every Thursday I work late at the post office. So today, I decided to take a break and get myself a cup of coffee from Orwell's. My eyes were beginning to droop and I couldn't focus on my job. I walked in and took off my hat. The felt made my head itchy. The air was a little smoky and the lights were dimmed, not the Orwell's I'm used to. A little disoriented, I continued toward the counter. Behind the register stood a young woman. She had a bright smile, and what looked like small tufts of hamster fur on her sweater. Why she was wearing a sweater in the summer eludes me. Kids these days. I grew a little weary and hoped she wouldn't be the one to make my coffee.

   "Hi I'm Emma! Welcome to Orwell's! What can I get for you?"
   "I would like a coffee, black."
   "Okay, one Cafe Americano?"
   "Pardon?"
   "Cafe Americano."
   "Is that coffee?"
   "Yes, it's black coffee."
   "Okay then. Why didn't you just say so?"

The youth make everything so complicated. She came back with my order and I paid. I sat down at the bar, a big yawn escaping out of my mouth. I started to sip my coffee and waited for it to kick in. As I sat there, I noticed a kid, about twenty two, walk up to a mic. The idle chatter ceased and all eyes were on him. I leaned in toward Emma.

   "Excuse me, Ms.-."
   "Roids. Emma Roids"
   "Ms. Roids, What's going on?"
   "It's spoken word night."
   "Oh! I love a good poem. My wife, Estelle, and I went to one of these on our first date. My oh my, was she beautiful?"

Then the poem began.

   "the sun,
on his search for life,
rose and found a tulip,
delicate,
beautiful.
the sun used it's rays
as a spotlight,
making his newfound love
a star.
but the night pulled the sun away
and he wept,
waiting to see her again.
that moment did come,
and it was like seeing her for the first time,
enchantment.
yet one day,
the night came as it did,
but did not regress.
the tulip had been taken
by her Creator.
the sun realized,
and he wept,
waiting to see her again."

A tear rolled down my face. I hid it with my jacket sleeve. Emma looked at me.

   "Hey shouldn't you be getting home. It's pretty late. I Imagine your wife is worried by now. You should call her and let her know you're alright. Here borrow my phone."
   "Thank you, but I don't need it."
   "You sure? I wouldn't want her worried."
   "You're very kind...but my wife passed away in March."
   "I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't mean-"
   "No, no. It's quite alright. I'd better be heading out. Thanks for the Cafe Ameri-whatever it was."

I gave Emma a reassuring smile, put my hat back on, and gave her a nod as I opened the door to leave. I headed back to the post office and tried to think of other things. I suddenly remembered the letter I found the other day. I felt in all of my pockets but found nothing. I assumed it was somewhere at home and didn't give it a second thought. I got back to work, but after a few minutes I decided to clock out early. I was too distracted... God, tell my Estelle I miss her.