Henry sat at his table in the coffee shop, nursing his warm cup of tea between his hands. Even though he had ordered it take out (and he always did) he always enjoyed the ten minutes in the coffee shop before he would have to walk down the road to work.
He liked this coffee shop. It was directly opposite the station, so he could watch the people come and go as they would get on and off the train. It was always interesting, people watching, wondering where they went as he sipped on his tea. There was one group of men all dressed in ridiculous costumes (for reasons Henry could never start to guess), and another group of people in suits striding purposely towards their point of destination.
It was calming, watching the people walk by. It made everything feel more manageable, life was suddenly smaller and so all of Henry’s jobs and to do list and millions of other tasks that he had to do.
He was present, in the moment, just sipping his tea.
“Sorry,” a voice said. Henry looked up to see a bashful young lady gesturing at the spare chair at his table, “you mind if I sit? It’s a bit busy and I need to work on my laptop.”
Henry shook his head.
“No, of course not,” he replied.
In retrospect, he probably should have seen how significant that moment was. But then, that was the beauty of hindsight.
First posted in 2015. || Image Credit: Photo by Alice Hampson on Unsplash