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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1387660-Shadows-on-the-Wall
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1387660
A young man is in love with a woman he has never spoken to.
Perhaps it's the way she wears her hair. Maybe it's the clothes she wears. It could be her smile. Definitely possible. But one thing is certain: she is beautiful.

I see her almost everyday. Some days she is sick and can't leave home. Others, she is late for work. But most days, for better or worse, I see her. She always comes in at the same time and gets the same thing.

Her favorite colors must be blue and white. I've never seen her in different colors. Maybe a black every once and a while. Maybe. But she usually holds true to those two colors. My favorite outfit she owns is this white top and blue skirt she wears. It makes her look more beautiful than she already is. She's here today. I think she was sick yesterday because she wasn't here. But now she is. She's wearing the blue and white outfit I love.

She always renders me speechless. All I can do is look at her with awe. She never sees me, but that is by my choice. I'm scared. I'm scared she won't acknowledge me. I'm scared she might. I'm scared that I might learn she is married or already has a boyfriend or is engaged. I wouldn't be able to take it.

She comes in to buy her coffee. Her favorite is a White Chocolate Mocha. She gets it every time she's here. I've tried them. I was trying to find something to talk about, so I tried coffee. It didn't work for me. I haven't taken a vacation in four years; she's been coming for three. I've never seen her order anything else.

I watch her get her coffee. Her smile sparkles at the cashier, making me jealous. He doesn't know who he is looking at. He can't appreciate it. Twenty-two seconds later, she leaves with her coffee in hand. I wanted to stop her. I tried to. But something inside me said no. The cost of rejection. The pain of letdown. I suddenly didn't feel worth it.

I checked my watch. The stock market would be opening in ten minutes; leaving my company on the floor for either butchering or praising. I needed to see which. I gathered my things together and headed out the door.

Someday, though. Someday.
© Copyright 2008 Joel Cobbs (jncobbs at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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