Iris

    If I had one way to describe love, it would be the quiet time I receive in the back table of of the coffee shop. After a long day in class and an even longer one interning at the embassy, it’s nice to come to an out of the way shop that’s quiet and dim.  Love is sticking my headphones into my ears and dreaming of movement around the city of Seoul, and outside of it as well. Love is removing myself from the world for a little while and escaping into the world inside of my head.

    Love is not being interrupted while trying to do all of these things.

    A young man stands in front of me, glancing down expectantly. His mouth is hanging open partially like he’d just spoken.

    “I’m sorry?” I ask, removing my headphones from my ear.

    “I asked if I could use this chair. That one has a wobbly leg.” I glance over at the chair he’s pointing to. It does look a bit lopsided.

    “Of course. I’m not using it.” I smile.

    “Thanks.” He bows and removes the chair. The young man pushes the other chair off to the side and takes a seat in the new one. He sips on his coffee while checking his phone.

    His side profile looks familiar, I cannot help but think. Have I seen him before? Maybe on the television? He looks like he belongs in a korean pop group. He probably does.

    I push away all other thoughts of the boy with my chair, writing him off as a simple man come to relax as I am,  and go back to listening to my music. My eyes, involuntarily, close, and I succumb to the smells of grinding coffee beans and pastries until I am dozing off.

    The chair is pushed back into it’s original place when I wake up. The store owners are wiping off tables and sweeping up crumbs careful to not disturb me. The wife, a cute older woman with soft brown eyes, tells me that I looked so peaceful sleeping that she didn’t want to disturb me. Which explains why there is no one left in the shop aside from myself.

    “That was very kind of you.” I give a watery smile. My eyes are dry from leaving my contacts in. I really do need to not let myself do that. “Can I offer any help? It’s the least I can do after loitering.”

    “No need. You are always a good customer.” She says. “A young man left this for you.” She adds, pushing a napkin toward me before walking away to finish cleaning. There is a note written carefully and expertly on it.

    Thanks for the chair. You talk in your sleep. ~K