Possibility for a fictional short story that I’ll probably write in parts when inspiration strikes?
I’m thinking YES!
Six months ago this day, I met Kaya one boring Sunday morning post my morning jog in the swanky coffee shop where I’d always order an iced Americano, in the most clichéd boy-meets-girl-in-coffee-shop fashion, she accidentally spilled her coffee all over me when she turned straight behind onto me, not having noticed my presence there. She seemed more flustered about the whole incident than I was. Maybe it was all the sincere anxiety so obviously written all over her face, maybe it was her astonishingly wide liquid black eyes, maybe it was her caramel skin which actually seemed to glow, maybe it was how she really wasn’t beautiful in the conventional way, she was all of 5’1 and her hair loose, wild curls but she was still so absolutely striking, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her and yet she was someone I would have easily missed if she hadn’t spilled her coffee over me, so I did something I usually never do, I smiled my warmest, most charming smile and I asked her if I could buy her a coffee. Did her cheeks turn a fine shade of crimson immediately? Yep. Did she have a coffee in her hand? Yep. Did she say yes anyway? Yes, oh yes. This girl also had the kind of smile that I can only describe as dazzling. Like those toothpaste ads. Dazzling. We sat there in that coffee shop for all of two hours, I launched into small talk first and then we naturally just proceeded to talk about anything and everything that came to our minds. Mostly she did the talking in her husky, deep but surprisingly feminine voice and the entire time all I could think of was, how could someone possibly be so utterly happy and radiant? Her eyes lit up every time she’d speak. Her toothpaste ad smile wouldn’t leave her face for one second and she’d laugh so easily and so often, her hearty laughter fat with bright infectious joy.
I left the coffee shop a happy man, her phone number safely stored in my contacts, Kaya. I didn’t know her last name, I didn’t know a lot of things about her but there was much time and I’d patiently get to know every little thing about her, I didn’t care how long it would take. She had me hooked. It was insane, I’m no naive fool, I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I guess sometimes you meet certain people and there’s a spark, an instant connection. For the first time after I lost S, I had a spring in my step and a flutter in my heart, a hell of a spark it’d been.