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-Lorenzo



library

sitting on the desk upstairs secluded from the rest
a man heavily coated, a whimsical fellow, flamboyant in attire and mannerism
sitting on an English colonial chair, legs crossed reading his book, fiction

as i extract my caramel macchiato  his eyes fix on mine
ambivalence on his stare until it was obvious, the coldness of the stare
sending a chill up my spine.

why did he stare? what was the purpose of such intrigue?

prepared to leave, finishing the drink, as i walk to my escape,
he gets up and tries to start a conversation.
in disgust, i evade, and briskly walk away.



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