#167: Rainstorm

We never made it work

We sit in the café
our umbrellas in a bucket by the door
pink alongside red clashing offensively
you pull off your blazer and place it on the back of the chair
I walk calmly to the bar and peruse the menu
The waitress tells us to take a seat
We order from the table not the bar she says
There is an awkward pause while we decide what we want

You order a mocha and I have a double espresso
We speak about scones
You point out the fruit one
You never really liked sultanas but for this you make an exception

The waitress brings everything over

I sip the bitter taste of espresso into my mouth
You split it in half and butter it on both sides
We speak about different types of jams
Apricot and raspberry
It’s like we don’t exist that’s how much we have to say to each other

You said you made jam once
You knew it was a lie when you said it
I laugh a little into my coffee
I know you’ve never made jam
I know everything about you

We chat about the weather, the football, then you mention moving out of our house
I tell you I’ll be out by Wednesday
Fine. Fine you say
I’m moving in with Claire I say
Oh, Claire. How’s Claire, you say.
Fine. Fine, thanks

The conversation stilts and stops
so I offer one last wafer of hope to this dead cup of cold coffee.

Maybe we can have coffee again sometime I say
You say, you say we’ll see

You know I’ll always love you you said
You knew it was a lie when you said it

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