The bell lightly jingled as a few people left. I sat at the table and flipped through my notebook. A strong hand set a cup of tea lightly on my table and I looked up to meet Michael's warm smile.
"Thank you." I smiled shyly and sipped the tea.
"May I join you?"
"Oh, please do." I moved some papers around so he could have some table space.
He smiled at me as he sat down. "So when did you write that poem of yours?"
"A few nights ago. I wasn't intending to read that one. I grabbed it by mistake." I looked down at my stack or papers.
"Well, I thought it was rather fitting, whether it was meant to be or not." He smiled. "Thank you for deciding to read. I enjoyed listening to you."
I tried to hide my blush. "Thanks," I said as I scratched my ear, "I enjoyed your poem as well. Very nicely done."
"Thank you. So, how long have you been writing?"
I chuckled a bit and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "All my life really. I started focusing on my prose my freshman year in high school, and my poetry my senior year. What about you?"
"Oh about twenty years ago." He grinned. "I'm old."
"Nah, old is only a state of mind."
He laughed, "Very true."
I smiled as the conversation was now focused on him. I could listen to him talk for hours. He talked a little about his childhood. I found out he grew up back east, and then was drafted into the military for the Viet Nam war. After he served two tours, he came back and went to school. He earned several degrees including a Masters in
Business. Once he graduated he picked up and did the same thing I did ending up in
Faith. The hours seemed to fly by as we talked about a variety of things. I tried to keep things focused on him by redirecting his questions. I still think he caught on to my tactics.
He would smile ever so slightly every time I did it, although he never mentioned it. He would answer the question, which would usually lead to a story and then to another topic.
I glanced at my watch and raised my eyebrows in surprise. It was already three in the morning. My startled response caused Michael to look at the clock behind me.
"Wow, I should be getting home. Jean is probably on the couch waiting for you."
He chuckled.