The man was sitting alone in the bar, at a big table, with several empty seats surrounding him. He shifted his papers and moved glasses away to make room for us, though it wasn’t necessary – the table was big enough for us all. He sat at one end, and we sat at the other. While our conversation flowed, he drank a pint and read his paper.
As he neared the end of his pint, a woman approached him. A scarf was knotted around her neck. As she enveloped him in a warm embrace, a curtain of brown hair brushed against the man’s shoulders.
‘It’s great to see you,’ she said in an American accented voice.
And then she was gone.
The man brought a second pint to the table and then settled down with his paper. He appeared content. Yet from across the table, we felt the rush of cold air her absence left, the promise of companionship dangled before the man, then snatched away.
Life's Little Things 