striking resemblance to Sal Mineo

Four o’clock ad he was due to arrive in fifteen minutes maybe less as she could look up and see his window on the 8^th floor of the green-glassed building, just two blocks from this café. She texted him: can you see me? He replied: yes.

A pause and Sara ordered a white wine and some cashews. The woman at the table beside her got up to go, adjusting the things in her large straw handbag, the kind you purchase on a cruise and realize when you get it home that it’s much larger that you first thought but you use it anyway and take the occasional snide remark with a secret satisfaction of having made the cruise and had such a pleasant time. After she left, Sara noticed a paper bag on the table full of round objects.

He texted: having orange juice or just oranges? She replied: wine, white…get down here, please xxx The waiter came by to clean the table after the departed woman, saw the bag opened it and said, she left her oranges, four of them, want a couple? Sara said, sure and accepted two, big robust oranges the size of grapefruits.

He texted: you should have gotten three so you could juggle like a clown She read his text, smiled, and glanced up to see a dingy white van drive by with a clown driving. She texted: WTF! are you houdini? He relied: no, jesus christ.

A young man dressed in gray slacks a black t-shirt, black sandals, coffee skin, black shaggy hair, and bearing a striking resemblance to Sal Mineo sat at the table next to her, checked his phone and took a packet of cigarettes out of his slacks pocket and placed them and a gold lighter on the table. He ordered green tea and the fruit plate.

Sara said, excuse me, would you like an orange? Thanks, he said. Hi I’m Sara. J.C., do you live about? They shook hands and she handed him an orange which he began to peel. The waiter came with two small plates, one for each of them.

I live just there across the street, you? He had separated the juicy segments and arranged them on his plate. Mmmm…I don’t think there’s any seeds in this, try one. I live in Israel, here on business for a while. Such a lovely day, I decided to just walk around town today and work outside if you call this work.

Are you waiting for anyone?

My friend, Taylor, works in that building there, in fact bet he sees us talking right now. Come sit here, he won’t mind.

Thank you… He begain to peel her orange and add the segments to his plate. Smoke? Not usually. Help yourself, they’re French and potent but they smell rather nice. He lit one, took a drag and handed it to her to taste. Thanks. Strong, you’re right.

The waiter brought wine, cashews, green tea and fruit. Taylor came into view, crossing the street. Sara waved. J.C. stood. She hugged Taylor. This is J.C., J.C., Taylor. They shook hands…