It was an orange daylight, cascading across a coffee shop he was unfamiliar with. Whenever he looked around, he recognized people from his life. On one side sat a woman he loved, blond, hair flowing across the back of a couch – but she was not alone, and he did not know who she was with – but that did not disturb him. At the bar, he saw another woman he loved, her secret safe in the crowd as she chatted away and laughed as only a Dutch speaking woman could. Another blond woman sat at the other side of the bar, catching his eye she smiles and waves.

He waves back. He's not quite sure how he got here. He's not quite sure what he's doing here, but here he is. He orders a triple espresso as he used to, recognizing the woman who serves it as a failed date from a Son Volt concert – but who remained a friend. There sits Heather, the shy girl in college, and over there is the woman he always wished he had spoken to. And over there, and over there, and...

He now sees the men, recognizing a Professor from his days in college, a Doctor from his days in the Navy, the sane ex-boxer turned 12 string guitarist at coffee shops, the Apache roommate, the midnight bong engineer of the old gang and so many others. So many others.

The blond with the Colombian accent comes over, gives him a hug and walks back to where she sits. He walks over, nodding at the man next to her.

'Hi. So you're with her now?'
'I think so. I'm not sure.'
'She's a good woman.'
'I think so. I'm not sure.'
'She can be a little strange.'
'I think so. I'm not sure.'
'Get sure.' { Read more }