First Timer

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I stand getting wet in cold rain

watching through plate glass windows

edges fogged

rendering the scene inside

a soft feathered oval

Aroma of coffee

faint but distinct

drifts past my nose

Feeling a bit shy and tentative

I approach the door

pull it open

to the sound of a cheerful bell

I am greeted by steamy warmth

that fogs my glasses

intriguing smells

hum of lively conversation

A few patrons

look up at me with curiosity

as I approach the counter

I intend only to order coffee

but impulsively add a scone

enticingly calling from the glass case

The barista smiles as she hands me my order

my change

You’re new around here

statement

not a question

I nod

Writer?

I nod again

then add Poet

She points to a large wooden table

toward the front of the café

full of laughter

easy conversation

Steve, can you find a chair for a newcomer?

the barista calls from behind the counter

Before I can respond

everyone good naturedly

rearranges themselves

to accommodate an empty chair

I nod my thanks at the barista

before approaching the table

coffee and pastry in hand

I am greeted with warm open smiles

A tall man in the center

gestures to the now empty chair next to him

Welcome

he says as I put down my food

absorb the introductions

my shyness fades as

I take my seat

seamlessly included

in the conversation

as if I am an old friend

who has been away

I mentally sigh

Home

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

11 thoughts on “First Timer

  1. Sometimes, I stand quietly behind the counter
    In between orders
    Safe
    And a simple thing transpires,
    Conspires:
    I Smile.

    And the words, they know they have done
    Everything they were spoken to do.

    Liked by 1 person

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