She was sadly sad and alone on the table of two with her head resting on the wall. The only glimpse of a smile she bestowed to the restaurant was for a random kid.
The saddest face with fine mascara and dark red lipstick. She wasn’t even looking at her phone the whole time, which was lying on the table. There was no hope for her to be joined by anyone. Or the one.
Remember that Charlie Wilson War? A stiff drink. A little mascara. Red lipstick. And came down the whole Soviet Union. That was that.
The glances exchanged and sadness was transferred. She didn’t blink and I had to lose, as always. Nothing else. She remained alone.
The noise of utensils and the unknown English track didn’t help the loneliness of the restaurant. Nothing could change the aura created by a single soul. Single. Soul.
Then her food came. With that came delight and the charm in her eyes that she bestowed to that kid a while back. But this time it remained. Like the whole restautant was finally served. How wrong was the whole setup? She wasn’t looking at her phone because no one was coming. No one was awaited. No one was needed.
The sadness was for the steak to be wrapped in brown buns with onions and jalapeno or whatever. Can’t tell about food. Can’t tell about eyes either.
A deception. Beautiful. Stucked. Sadly!
