A coffee shop in a train station. A man at a table by the window. Fog and frost on the window to the outside world. A rhythmic tap of a shoe to the beat of a song softly released from unseen singers. 

The man missed his train.

 The man didn’t care.

He softly sipped from his coffee cup. It was warm, it was nice. 

The coffee shop was warm. It was nice.

The bell attached to the top of the door rings, a new patron has arrived. The click and clack of heels, while disguised as business attire, asked into the silence for the attention of the room. 

The man looks up from his coffee. The woman before him shirks her coat and rests it on her arm, the other reaches for the bell stationed on the counter. She rings it. No answer. She rings it again. No answer.

“That’s more for decoration than anything else really,” the voice behind the woman assures. She turns to the man. He smiles and gives her a little wave. 

“And how do you know that?” 

“I tried the same thing.”

The woman’s gaze shifts from the man to the cup in his hand then back to him. She snorts and turns away.

“You won’t get anything if you pout like that. Why don’t you take a seat here? I’ll keep you company while you wait.” The man gently pats on the seat of the chair next to him. 

“I’m fine here, thank you.” 

“Fine by me.” The man takes a sip of his coffee and looks back outside the window. 

A minute passes. 

The woman pulls a chair out and sits across from the man, the seat adjacent to the man goes 

unset in. She points to the coffee resting in the man’s hands

“How did you get that if there are no servers?”

“I waited.” The man smiled softly in satisfaction.

“You waited..” the woman asked more in a manner of skepticism than questioning. 

“I simply waited, and it arrived. I didn’t even have to order.” The man sits back and sips. “If you’re thirsty you can try some of mine. I’m sure the staff won’t mind.”

The man pushes the cup forward towards her. The caramel colored liquid slides back and forth very slightly. The woman gives the man an incredulous look, but picks it up regardless. She closes her eyes, holds it up to her lips, and takes a sip.

“You like your coffee bitter. You have good taste.” 

“I think you should take another look at that drink.” The woman looked down and the coffee in her hands was now undeniably black, the liquid left in the cup just as much as before. 

The man reaches across and grabs the cup back as the woman watches the liquid turn back into a light brown. 

“I like my coffee sweet.” He takes a sip

The woman points at the man. “What did you do to that coffee?”

The man looks up mid sip and stops abruptly, then swallows. “Would you like some more?”

“No, I mean how did it change? Why is it just as full after I had some?”

“I think it’s the secret ingredient,” says the man, muffled by the cup as he tilts it back.

The woman gets out of her chair to sit in the seat adjacent to the man, inspecting his drink and watching the cup inches from the man’s face. He takes a sip. The man looks back at her out of the corner of his eye in turn and gulps. He smiles.

“You sat next to me.” The woman’s face flushes. The man looks down at his watch; it’s broken. 

“I better get going. You can finish my drink for me. I’ve already been here quite a while.”

The man stands up, grabs his things, and raises his hat to the woman. “Thank you for keeping me company.” He pushes the door open, but pauses. 

“I never got your name.” The woman scoots closer in his direction, now sitting where the man had prior. 

“It’s Rose.”

The man smiles. “That’s a pretty name.” the man dons his cap and walks out into the cold. The woman turns to see him in the window but he is nowhere to be seen. She puts her hand on the window; it’s cold. She turns back to the coffee he gave her. She takes a sip. It was warm, It was nice.

The bell attached to the top of the door rings.

 A  new patron has arrived.