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Description
I knew the man sat on the table next to me. One seat and an aisle width away. He sat eating a muffin and reading his paper. Crumbs fell on his jeans and the headlines stuck to the Formica in damp circles of coffee.

A vaguely overweight blonde set my tea down next to my untouched croissant. Her tag hung limply from her breast, I couldn’t read the name.
‘Thank you.’ She did not smile, or look at me. I wondered if she didn’t hear me. Or if she heard anything. He glanced at me. I realised that he wouldn’t know me, I’m a brunette now.

I’d been promoted today. This is a celebratory lunch, alone. My friends are busy people, but I don’t know what any of them do. They go to work in suits and leather cases. They go to the gym, then come home to smoke and drink. They have children who fall asleep before they are picked up from Nanny’s house every night. They have husbands and lovers. I have a cold croissant and a dull coloured fleece. He drummed his fingers. I folded mine across the two open sugar sachets. I realised that he wouldn’t know me now, I’d learn to be still.

He had finished his lunch and he was doing the crossword. He was confused by 3 down. The men on the radio didn’t have voices, but they sung to me nonetheless and made me smile. I asked the girl to turn it up. She did and he watched. I realised that he wouldn’t know me, I ask questions now.

As she moved away, she dropped the store keys to the floor. I saw him look up, eyes hovering on me. I turned toward him and smiled. He turned away from me and coughed. I realised that he wouldn’t know me, I’m happy now.

Happy now that he didn’t know me.

He turned to talk to the crouched blonde and my half empty coffee cup.

Description
I knew the man sat on the table next to me. One seat and an aisle width away. He sat eating a muffin and reading his paper. Crumbs fell on his jeans and the headlines stuck to the Formica in damp circles of coffee.

A vaguely overweight blonde set my tea down next to my untouched croissant. Her tag hung limply from her breast, I couldn’t read the name.
‘Thank you.’ She did not smile, or look at me. I wondered if she didn’t hear me. Or if she heard anything. He glanced at me. I realised that he wouldn’t know me, I’m a brunette now.

I’d been promoted today. This is a celebratory lunch, alone. My friends are busy people, but I don’t know what any of them do. They go to work in suits and leather cases. They go to the gym, then come home to smoke and drink. They have children who fall asleep before they are picked up from Nanny’s house every night. They have husbands and lovers. I have a cold croissant and a dull coloured fleece. He drummed his fingers. I folded mine across the two open sugar sachets. I realised that he wouldn’t know me now, I’d learn to be still.

He had finished his lunch and he was doing the crossword. He was confused by 3 down. The men on the radio didn’t have voices, but they sung to me nonetheless and made me smile. I asked the girl to turn it up. She did and he watched. I realised that he wouldn’t know me, I ask questions now.

As she moved away, she dropped the store keys to the floor. I saw him look up, eyes hovering on me. I turned toward him and smiled. He turned away from me and coughed. I realised that he wouldn’t know me, I’m happy now.

Happy now that he didn’t know me.

He turned to talk to the crouched blonde and my half empty coffee cup.