They sit in silence.
The man holds his head with both hands, elbows on the wooden table, eyes closed. Three day beard, blond hair, or is it grey.
The woman next to him looks past him, her forehead wrinkled, she stares into the distance. She is wearing a sleeve- and backless top, the skin around her shoulders slack.
It’s still warm, the sky is blue, the trees shine: orange, yellow, red.
A man walks past, asks for some coins, anyone there to buy him a cup of coffee.
Her look focuses, “Yes”, straight into his eyes, “I’ll buy you one”. The man sits down in front of her, orders a coffee, no milk, the waiter looks skeptically, she intervenes: I said I’d pay it. Places 2 euros in front of the man.
The couple falls back into the original position. Interrupted by: Gulps of white wine for him, sips of coffee for her.
Before the coffee arrives, the man who had ordered it, gets up and leaves, the two euros with him.
The man looks up and says, he’s leaving. It’s a reproach. The woman replies sharply, I knew he wasn’t going to drink his coffee here. You will have to pay it anyways, he says.
The waiter brings the cup, places it on the table, in front of the empty seat. He left, the woman tells him. He might come back, the waiter says.
The man stands up, reaches for the cup, I’ll take it. He might come back, says she. He shakes his head energetically, grim face, and places the hot drink next to his glass of wine.
Can we talk now, she says, we said we were going to talk.
I don’t want to talk, says the man.
We said we were going to, says the woman calmly, their looks still don’t meet. That we were going to talk about trying to have a baby.
He puts his head back into his hands and closes his eyes.