you sitting in the parlor. Appointed a colorful ice cream with lots of cream, decorated with candy. Spoon by spoon, he wanders into her mouth. She looks into the void. Them couples, larger groups, families with children. She sits alone at her table. Hardly noticed that the plate is empty. Still play a bit around with the spoon on the porcelain. Licking the last drop of the melted ice cream off. Then hold the mouth, lips and tongue pause. The eyes are on the busy life around them and yet look into the void. The brown hair falling over her shoulders down, the pale skin stand out. A few pounds too much, a round, pretty face in a sad way. It will carry nothing. Just sits alone at the small round table under a beach umbrella. A still life.
they expected someone? No impatience in her look, only emptiness. Did she want to eat an ice cream and had no escort? She motions to the waitress, a sign of life. You want to pay. No. They ordered a mineral water. "With lemon, please." The waitress nodded, notes, dates back to the café. It freezes again. Sits motionless, like a moth in the sunlight. As the mineral water at the table, is a brief moment she wakes from the stupor. Takes a sip. If the glass down. Freezes again. drink the midst of these people who laugh at them and have fun, it has infinitely far away.
Lonely to be sad. To see a lone man is terrible. It seems like the loneliest woman in the world.
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