Waiting for coffee

It's almost 10 a.m., and I am waiting in line at the ferry building to buy coffee beans and a latte from Blue Bottle. Across the hall is Humphrey Slocombe ice cream. And right next to Humphrey Slocombe is a couple.

The wife is very pregnant. She is definitely and joyously consuming a large ice cream cone. The husband stands next to her, holding his coffee and looking on. Ain't no messing with this woman as she gets her morning dessert.

Ain't no messing with her.

Dreams in the rain

I woke up a couple of times in the night.  It felt . . . odd. I didn't go to bed early-- quite the opposite. But I tossed and turned while I slept. Too tired to sleep . . . ?

It started, I think, with running into him randomly. And we just clicked. He was tall, dark, and slim, and had an easy laugh. For some reason, I felt he was religious, and it pained me. But that never came up.

When I said we clicked, I mean that being with him just felt right. Like we were supposed to be together. Like there was an unspoken connection that was perfect. Being with him was like feeling the warmth of the sun on your back after a cold winter's day.

But it wasn't perfect. I was dating someone very seriously, and he knew it, too. We hung out. He had an ex girlfriends who was jealous of me.

He was a photographer. The head of his group. Maybe he was just religious about photography.

We spent an afternoon- or an evening- hanging out, quirky enjoying each other's company. Eventually, we both fell asleep, leaning against one another.  Just resting on a table top.

Next thing I know, his ex is accusing me of infidelity to my boyfriend. Telling us we shouldn't be together. That we had done all sorts of things the night before. Did we? I can't remember.

Being with him felt so right. But I had my boyfriend, too. Whom I loved dearly and couldn't imagine leaving.

Heartache. Wondering.

Would you stay? Would you go?

He took care of me. Made sure no one could hurt me. Made sure his ex couldn't hurt me. He protected me. The connection was there my heart leapt when he appeared. Was this just a crush? His sister told me to ignore Hus ex. That she was jealous and a stalker.

But I had my boyfriend. Nothing could happen. Nothing would happen. 

Them.

The streets were dark, and water pooled and looked like blood in the tungsten light.  As I walked down the street, I could hear the "clop, clop, clop" of my shoes.  Too loud.  The shoes had been cheap, but the noise was a problem.  I had forgotten to muffle them before I left.  It was already attracting them.

With each step, I felt them coming closer.  They arrived in ones and twos from above the grass, at first.  They were the weaker ones, sent to scout by their master.  Easy to deal with.  I dealt with them first.  

More.  Many more.

It shouldn't have been too difficult for me to handle.  I was young and well trained.  

A scream in the near distance.  Someone not as young.  Nor as well trained.  

I stopped.  They turned their attention away from me and listened to the scream of their brethren's prey.  I took the chance.

Sprinting, I looked for shelter.  These things were fearsome and quick, and to the untrained, it would appear that there could be no solace from them.  But there is shelter everywhere if you know where to look.

They don't like burrows-- or holes.  And they don't like water.  

My shoes were betraying me as I ran, and they took notice.  There!  A refuge.  I plunged in headlong.

Strange that creatures that only operate in deepest of the night dislike the dank darkness of holes and burrows.  They saw me enter.  They slowed.  One by one, they left.

The sun was rising.  One more day.



[Written on my late night walk home from our war room for the Chicony trial in 2013-2014.]