DETACHED

     

A treasure trove of idiosyncratic humanity. A struggle of oddities, carefully curated, fumbling to fit into a landscape…Alone together, a cold comfort of disconnected souls, detached wires, wireless but longing for a signal, just a crackle of recognition.  “Your usual”? asked the barista, who once tried to escape in pursuit of a grander scheme, but then returned to the familiar. Competence centered on steam and froth and recognition of the passing throng: their preferences, their dislikes, their way of controlling their tiny worlds. She stood in line, losing the line. That’s what her coffee shop actor/director acquaintance called it, “losing the line.” Something about getting lost in a different reality, or maybe just about getting lost in general. The way she felt most of the time. The way her life took on a blur. A shadow within a shadow. True self became a series of meaningless poses, demanded by the hour, the minute, the transitive verb, the object of her affection. Still, the auburn hair, still auburn. At least there was that. Other things too, grounded her.  A phrase, the swill of coffee, a glance of, what, sympathy? Wait! Was it sympathetic? A slit of blue from a quick side-long, five bodies ahead, next in the order queue. As if he knew all the crazy shit rolling around her carousel noggin. Well, she’d never know and that was just great because the last thing she needed at this moment was a real human interaction that required real thinking or, at the very least, empty-headed diatribe, which, although skilled in thoughtless conversation, meaning less-thought, still, she wasn’t in the mood and preferred, at this moment, the stream of consciousness meanderings that took her away from the line and rows of unnecessary coffee-related products.

         “Here, I thought you might like this,” he said while handing her a white cup with mocha-hued froth peering out the top. Stymied, she accepted the, was it gift or gesture? Before she could gather up a “thank you”, he was gone. Blue eyes, blue jeans, dark hair, gone. She left the line and went to the window to look for him in the parking lot. Gone. The cup getting warmer in her hands.