The Exchange

Coffee shop encounter...

Keys click clack, click clack as she slowly types, taking her time writing what she liked to consider her masterpiece. She bites her lip, thinking, her mind exploring every thought that sparks but quickly ceases caressing the keys when the door opens. With the cold air, comes in her Marilyn*, floating through, tantalizing. The vision walks by, fully aware of the effect she has on the artist in the corner. 

All work has stopped, and the two exchange glances of unfamiliar and innocent desire, tingling goosebumps, what? Why? How? Then, the beauty leaves. 

Now, the writer has an ending to her story, questions answered and inspiration seeped. So goes click clack of the keys again...only right now, the masterpiece will have to wait...