You didn’t know the meeting
I met her again in the cafe shop. The beautiful girl was in her peterson jersey, staying at the shop. Pay no attention on me.
First she moved to the history section, then art, to travel, I guess she does know me a little. Finally while seeking the next ideal spot, she caught the scent of the French vanilla that seeps its' way around the store, to draw the coffee drinkers in, a very effective lure. I asked myself whether she likes john randle jersey or randle jersey. But I did not know.
In a moment she is standing not two tables from me, near the window. Back to me, attention directed at the passersby in the street, to the door and back. Almost like she was watching a tennis match in slow motion, movements only interrupted by a glance at her watch or a sip of her drink.
I stood up in my new orleans saints jersey from my seat, cautiously approaching as not to startle her. Softly I speak her name out. She stops her movement, save the placing of the cup down on the table beside her. Asking my name before she turns, she was reminding me of a ballerina performing a pirouette. For a second time stops, our eyes met for the first time. Taking in those pale blue eyes, just the shade you would find in the heart of an iceberg, but yet a raging fire burns from behind them. A light smile comes to her lips as she whispers my name again. The pretty blue start to roll back as her lids fall. Knees buckling beneath her, starting to crumble, I lurch forward, catching her.
Within twenty minutes I had this angel on my couch, bedecked with pillows and a comforter, still fast asleep. I knew that she likes saints jersey best, just like me. And my cat, curled up on where I believed her feet were. Truly my mind was a flurry of thoughts, perhaps was how will she react when she wakes? It’s not every day you meet an almost total stranger in saints jerseys, faint and wake up on his sofa.
All things you did not know are the future. Maybe one day I would meet the girls with new orleans saints jerseys again.
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