I was trying to slow down and savor the rapidly vanishing weekend, so I thought it would be nice to stop in at Dream Fluff, a donut place on Ashby I've been frequenting off and on for most of my three and a half decades in the East Bay. Teri and Jackie (and I) love the old-fashioneds (chocolate glazed or plain). Picked up a couple five in a nice white paper bag, then crossed back over to Espresso Roma, a cafe notable for its high ceilings and many decently-spaced tables, aside from the great coffee drinks that the non-English-speaking baristas can somehow dependably produce in a minute flat.
Got my latte, settled in at a table facing the door, and watched the ebb and flow of the clientele.
An old man, short, hunched, with tufts of white hair on either side of his head and a face dominated by dark, wide-set eyes and a big hawk-like nose, walked in, stood on line for his light supper then sat down at a nearby table, smiling at the two young women who were just leaving. They returned his warm smile, for which I was oddly grateful.
I couldn't help thinking, "Old father, where is your wife?" As a shadow crossed my heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment