The sky outside is stormy and dark. Lightning flashes in the sapphire blue of your eyes. My palms and soles are cold. You are furious about something.
The stewardess pours a steaming latte in the Styrofoam cup, and it wobbles a bit.
Is it going to be my last sip of life?
Suddenly, you smile and I feel the warmth returning. Your anger was not about me. I wonder what has been troubling you. Can I do something to help?
I walk out of the café with heavy feet. I don’t want my happiness to be so dependent on you.