~ The Man ~

“Here is your pastry; the elderly woman gave it to me because she said she didn’t have time to give it to you…”

 

 

 

 

“Hold it for me, why don’t you?”

 

 

 

 

I passed the woman with her child who took me aside and whispered, “thank you”, to which I replied with a frank nod of the head

 

 

 

 

The man looked up at me as I sat down next to him

 

 

 

“Where are your parents? Aren’t they worried as of yet?”

 

 

 

 

We had sat not only for a few minutes when I looked at him again

 

 

 

 

“Don’t you want your pastry?”

 

 

 

 

I gave it to him and watched him turn it over and over again in the palm of his hand

 

 

 

 

 

He looked at me again, this time, his eyes digging deep into mine

 

 

 

 

 

“You didn’t answer my question…”

 

 

 

“Neither did you”

 

 

 

 

This time, I looked at him, feeling triumph over the fact I finally got him stumped

 

 

 

 

Maybe it was because of my lack of reason that drove me to him those many moons ago

 

 

 

 

I did know this fellow

 

 

 

 

“How is she, your mother?”

 

 

 

 

He peeled back the wrapper and took a bite, looking at me

 

 

 

 

“Oh, yeah, I’ve bought you a cup of tea…”

 

As I was staring at the cup on the table, I heard his voice, I didn’t look up

 

 

 

 

“Mother…”

 

 

 

 

I thought about her for a second

 

 

 

 

“I see you’ve met Burlesque…”

 

I noticed he was trying to catch my eye, as if doing so would reveal a part of me he was never exposed to before

 

 

 

 

I caught his stare; nothing happened