Everything in time

My trance of concentration was broken when I noticed the subtle shuffling—the pencil returned to the backpack, the shifting in the seat. I watched from my seat across the room, not ready to delve in to the next piece that required my concentration, not until I knew for certain.

I knew for sure when the laptop closed. The coveted spot, the large square table by the two tall windows, desired by most, would be open. Suddenly I was a vulture at a crowded bar, rather than a quiet coffee shop, hovering and ready to pounce.

“Excuse me, are you leaving?”

She nodded in confirmation.

“I’m just gonna swoop in then, this is my favorite table.”

“I think it’s a lot of people’s favorite tables,” she answered, smiling.

I transitioned to my new seat by the window, brought my coffee over from the other table, and took an indulgent sip.

I glanced out the window to see the woman hustling to her car. A woman in uniform stood there writing a ticket to place on her windshield. She got there just in time.

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