She sat at the corner table in the busy cafe, alone. Her waiter forgot her water, her napkin, and most noticeably, her. She was too quiet and alone. She demanded nothing and faded into the background.
She was annoyed at being forgotten but didn’t think it important enough to complain about. In no hurry, she knew it didn’t matter how long it took him to come back to her table. She stared at the bright screen of her phone and pretended she had something more important to do than look around for her errant waiter.
Used to being alone, she became an expert in looking preoccupied to avoid attention – or avoid noticing the lack of attention. She blended in to the background, often forgotten by the people around her. Average in appearance at first glance, she had a smile that could light up a room.
She hadn’t smiled in quite a while, though. Her friends and coworkers had become used to her pale skin and her sad eyes. They had forgotten how her smile could transform her face once it hit her eyes. They had almost forgotten the sound of her laugh when she giggled in delight; the harsh laughter that could sometimes be pulled from her sounded normal to them.
She didn’t remember what it felt like anymore. She didn’t remember having an easy smile or laugh. This was who she was, and she accepted it.
She forced herself out of the house tonight. Tired of the quiet, she thought that a night out among people might give her energy and give her something to do. She found it draining instead. The empty seat across from her screamed, “Lonely and alone!” to her. And now she couldn’t even get another glass of water.
Where in the hell was he?
Anger began to build within her. She tamped it down immediately. It did no good to get angry, it would solve nothing. She sighed and sat back in her chair, looking around the cafe for the first time. She saw a young couple holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes. A wave of jealousy coursed through her body, and she looked away.
Her eyes darted to another spot in the room. An elderly couple sat next to one another in a booth, heads bent close, seeing only each other. She bit her lip and looked down at the table in front of her.
Why had she decided to come out tonight?
She refused to let herself get dragged down into a bad habit of dwelling on what she couldn’t change. Clearly, she was meant to be alone, so why rail against it? Better to accept the inevitable than to bemoan the circumstances of her life.
Turning slightly in her chair, she scanned the room for her waiter. Instead of more water, she just wanted her bill so she could go home.
Her eyes rested on a table across the room, in the opposite corner. Apparently, she wasn’t the only single diner tonight. He was engrossed in his newspaper, so she took the opportunity to look at him unobserved…
I just started randomly writing…I don’t know what happens next in this scene…any suggestions?