Outside Cafe On Sunset Boulevard By. Doug Draime

Her eyes darted from mine
like she was jerking
her hand
away from a flame.
“Stop looking at me,” she snapped,
as she looked off
down the boulevard
with annoyance.
I had caught her in a lie, a minor
betrayal. It wasn’t
the first time I’d nailed her.
She couldn’t take my eyes,
she never could. I knew she’d get up
and take off running.
It was the same reaction every time. I’d
sit, sip my coffee, and wait for her to return,
she always did 15 or 20 minutes later,
gushing with sweet apology.
But this time I didn’t wait, just got up and walked home,
and I knew if I didn’t wait there at
our table where she had taken off,
that I would never see her again,
and I never did.

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