Vagabond

Sitting in the Vagabond cafe, I sketched idly.

He put his hand on my shoulder, and startled me. I looked up to see him and smile. He turned me to face away.

He asked me, softly, "What would it take for you to fall in love?"

I said, "Nothing."

He sighed, and said, "Close your eyes."

He placed something on the table with a rustle and said, "What about flowers?"

I shook my head.

There was a light thump

"What about chocolates?"

I shrugged.

A tap

"Jewelry?"

I said, "No."

Clink

"Perfume?"

"No."

Jangle

"What about a car, a house?"

I stood and spun, grasping my sketchbook as I looked up at him, a mist in my eyes.

I opened the book and showed him the pages: the day we met, our first embrace, a glance, a smile, a kindness unasked for, a word at the right time, a multitude of moments, tiny and large.

"This, is why I love."

I looked at the table with it's trinkets. I shook my head and turned to go.

As I passed him, I glanced up and grinned, "Those truffles do look good, though."