cafe1

The small caf� was nearly empty. It had been very busy during the day, but as darkness gradually replaced the sunlight, the people had filtered away one by one. Now, at a few minutes to midnight, only a few people remained.
       Roger looked around impatiently. He had arrived at noon, just in time for the usual lunch hour rush and now he was ready to return home. As he began to wipe down the tables, he silently cursed the remaining customers. Didn�t they have homes? Families? . . . Lives?! Why did they have to linger and keep him from going home to his loving wife and warm bed?
       At the sound of the door opening, Roger jolted back to reality. A slow grin spread across his face. Two customers, a young woman and man, were leaving! Roger began to whistle happily as he continued to clean up. Abruptly, he stopped. There was one man left in the cafe! One man! Roger�s eyes narrowed at the still figure staring listlessly out the window. With a frustrated snarl, Roger turned on his heel and stomped into the kitchen to calm down.
       He came back out of the kitchen and to his dismay, the man hadn�t moved. With a defeated sigh, Roger fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat down to better observe this silent, brooding individual.
       He was a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, with short, tawny blond hair. He was well-groomed, clean shaven, and dressed in a neatly pressed three-piece black suit. Roger wondered how tall he was and, after a few minutes of pondering on this feature, decided that he must be at least six feet tall. He had a lean, athletic figure and appeared to be in good health.
       The young man turned his head from the window to stare into the murky depths of his coffee cup. Something glittered in the corner of his eye. Then, a single tear made a straight path down his handsome face and dropped soundlessly into his coffee.
       The silence was broken by the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen. Roger reluctantly got up from his table and quickly went to answer the phone. He forgot all about the desolate young man the very second he heard his wife�s sweet voice on the line.
       �Roger?� she asked, �Why are you still at work? I miss you; when will you be home?�
       �One question at a time!� laughed Roger. Then, taking on a more serious tone, he continued, �it�s been a busy day, my darling. I�ll be home soon. I promise. There�s just one more customer to take care of and as soon as he leaves, I�m locking up for the night and coming straight home to you.�
       �Oh, Roger! You are so dedicated! That�s why I love you so. But, all the same, I hope your customer leaves soon . . . I can�t imagine anyone staying out so late!�
       �Neither can I, my darling . . . neither can I . . . �
       And so their conversation continued until he heard the door open and someone walked out. Roger forced himself to say goodbye to his beloved wife and softly hung up the phone. He hurried out of the kitchen and laughed in victory when he found the caf� empty.
       As he was walking out, a piece of paper on a table caught his eye. He grabbed it up, wadded it into a little ball and threw it into the nearest wastebasket. He hastily locked up the caf�, then made his way home to his beautiful wife.