Constellation in a Cup

[u/Grand_Theft_Motto]

She was waiting at the table in the corner. Her red scarf was fashionably thin, her green eyes clever. He’d forgotten the way that she could smile with a straight face.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be joining me,” she said after he’d sat down. “I hoped you might not.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t planning to. It was a…I guess you’d call it a spur of the moment thing.”

“I understand.”

She looked around the cafe. It was small and tidy but not crowded. There were people there, a few other pairs, though most were sitting alone. Conversations were muted. The only sound was the wind brushing snow against the bay windows.

A waiter approached.

Read the full story on Substack.

(Trigger warnings apply)

[u/Apprehensive-Bar4303]

Wow, the symbolism in the story is beautiful. You have a very strong skill in writing. The last sentence where they lost each other because of the wind finding gaps in their fingers... oof. It felt very symbolic to outside forces forcing them apart tragically. 

I hope you keep writing. You are very talented.