The Cookies

It was a Sunday and the sprinkles of the rain had made the street wet. He pushed the door silently and entered into the cafe. Soft music soothed his soul. He searched for a corner to relax down for a while. He walked down straight towards a corner, where she was sitting. She was alone with all her interest in the book. He paused for a moment and finally gathered words, “May I join you?” After elating few seconds of silence, she slipped her book little down to her face. She looked up with almost mute face. Her eyes were brown and lively, he invigilated. She smiled and gestured him to sit. And again she was lost in her book. He was looking for a moment to break the ice. But, instead, “let the silence flow into the air”, he thought.

While he was busy in gazing her book’s title, the waiter came.

“Here is your cappuccino ma’am and here are your cookies.”  he said quietly. “Thanks!” she said and made the book rest on the table. She flipped her hair and took out the cookies from the packet into the dish. “Now is the time.” he thought and tried to avoid awkwardness. But, she was there in the book again.

He called the waiter then, “One Latte please.”

“Anything else sir?”

“Umm. No thanks.”

The coffee came. He was looking around, maybe trying to read all of the faces, sitting there. She was still a secret hidden behind her book with the half full cup. All of a sudden she slipped the plate of cookies to him, without uttering a word. He hesitated first. “Have some”, She said. He grabbed one and crunched it with coffee. She smiled and continued reading. Almost fifteen minutes passed. She took her purse and book and walked out of the cafe pleasantly.

The day two it was and 2:15 pm, his watch pointed out. He entered into the café with the same consciousness and walked down straight to the corner. She too was there. He again paused for two seconds and put his laptop bag aside and, pulled off the chair to sit. She smiled and looked into her book again. Her cappuccino and cookies came like the previous day. He stole a gaze to her and ordered one Latte. The book was different today, he noticed. “Maybe a bookworm.” He assumed. She passed the dish of cookies to him, just like the yesterday, with a smile too controlled and a voice of comfort. He took one and continued making patterns of thoughts. She left with the same pleasantness today also.

This schedule was a routine then. Every day, sharp at 2:15 pm, he used to walk down right to the corner. The exchange of smiles and few thanks were the only conversations, the two of them enjoyed. The cookies were of the same flavor every day with his Latte and her cappuccino. Just the book was being changed every day. And every day she used to leave the place with the same pleasantness.

Six months flew away in harmony with concealed comfort under their unspoken words. Words, which were loud in the name of care. The day was chilled. He entered into the café, guessing the book of the day. He dropped himself on the chair. But, it was something unusual. That another chair was empty today. She used to be there before his arrival. She was never late before, he mumbled. He checked his watch, he was on time. The tick tick of time continued and so did his curiosity and thoughts. He sighed, and waiter came with a cup of Latte. He was the witness of their routine and their cups of coffee and the cookies. The waiter handed over a letter to him and added, “Here is a letter she has dropped for you. She had come yesterday after you were off to your way and asked me to give you.” The waiter got busy with his other orders. The letter smelled the same as her mild essence of her perfume. His heart thumped and he opened the letter. And it read,

“ To,

A stranger not so strange,

Thanks for comforting my each day, when solitude was the only stick I had to support my confidence.

Thanks for making me smile genuinely, where books were the only escape to hide this smile behind.

Consider those cookies as sweet heat to break the ice of my hidden concerns.

I wish this cookies comfort zone would have lasted longer.

Hoping that you would comfort someone else with your coffee and cookies and so will I.

From,

“Once a newbie in the city”.

He folded the letter with some heavy but random emotions. He could not decide how to react upon a pretty and silent bond, which was then just another matter of time. He read the letter twice, and left the place. But this time, with a satisfaction and wider smile. Maybe he could write the same letter to her, he thought.