The morning air of Moscow is crisp. The morning cleaning crew just finished their first round visit with the water truck. There is scarcely any sound on the street. An occasional pedestrian broke into the street scene like aspirations. You do not know if they are real. The dawn is just about to break and there comes the light sound of footsteps from a young visitor. You can tell he is a tourist through the curious expression on his face. He was looking at the architecture of the building, pointing his camera towards the intriguing patterns and designs.
He was also tired from the morning walk and he was looking for a place to rest his feet. Downtown Moscow is dotted with café which opens for 24 hours. He came up to a corner café, looked at the outside menu and counted his money in his pocket. Looking through the big glass window he can see a young girl getting ready for the day’s activity.
She must be working through the night, the poor soul. You could see the tired expression on her face. There she goes again, it is the 3rd time she is rubbing her eyes to clear away the monotony. She turned and she noticed the traveller. She smiled. A smile that was mixed in with a kind of shyness, an innocent kind of shyness like the ones you meet with your first puppy love.
HE:
She got eyes like an angel. The eyes can touch the inside of your soul. She has such slender fingers, fingers that can be so neat and well proportioned. She must be an artist working to pay her way through college. Look at the complexion on her face. The milky smooth skin looks so delicate that commands you to look at her with admiration. She is working so hard. She is looking at me, again, that look and a bursting smile that can melt anyone’s heart.
SHE:
What a lovely boy. He has this innocent look and yet his sight cannot cover the passion lies within. He must be a stranger in town. He has this little boy loss air around him. He must have a good sense of humour. You can tell from the smirk on his lips. Is he smiling at me? What am I going to do if he comes in and talk to me? Should I answer or should I ignore him? There he smiles again.
The next day, the young man showed up in front of the café in the morning. He passed his smile and exchange for the same warm salute from the girl. Nothing was said. He was scared and too shy to go in. The girl was waiting and she keeps sneaking looks at him.
The third day, he has to make up his mind and do something if he wants to know the girl. He is leaving Moscow the next morning. He looked, he stared. He circled around looking for the simple courage to approach his angel. She was shooting encouraging smiles his way. She was also too shy to make the approach or to invite him in for a coffee to break the ice.
He left Moscow with a wonderful image of the girl he would like to know. He might have left his future in Moscow. She was disappointed. He stopped to come. Was he just an imagination? She also might have witness her future walking away with the young man.
Thirty years later, the same street corner, the same building, the same café, the young man has approached his middle age. He came back to Moscow to reminisce the memory of a perfect woman who he might once have a future with.
The young girl, married with children, will break into deep thought of a young boy she felt so close to and the sweetness of a dream which almost happened.
