He saw her at the corner table, pushing her errant hair away from her face, as she exhibited some frown lines while focusing on her book. After a few minutes she looked up and glanced outside. She saw a young mother wipe baby chino foam off her little toddler's mouth. He stood on his tippy toes and kissed his mother's nose. She looked away like she had witnessed an intimate mother-child moment that she should not be privy too. Her face had a half-smile but her eyes seemed sad.
He named her Lonely.
She saw him look at her from his Economist while his latte sat on the table getting cold. She did not understand people who did not have the food at the temperature it was meant to be consumed at. It felt like an insult to the food in question. His dark eyes appeared to have forbidden secrets, hidden fears, or she reckoned, a bit of both.
She named him Sullen.
I am old and grey and my eyes are weak, but see things young people don't. Sullen had recently quit is job to pursue his love of food. He tried a new cafe everyday to understand how he could make his cafe unique.
I named him Passion.
Lonely was a kindergarten teacher. She loved books and babies in that order. Today was the first day of the summer break and she was already missing her kids who were off for their vacations. Her eyes were misty thinking about how it would be many weeks before she saw them all again.
I named her Hopeful.
Sullen and Lonely would never give each other a chance. How I wish they could see each other through my eyes.