The Guide

Hiding from the drudgery of a wet Monday morning, I found myself in a crowded café using espresso rings to count sips as I absorbed caffeine. My, not quite there yet gaze, was still trying to reclaim lost sleep when it stumbled on a smiling face. I quickly placed my attention elsewhere to avoid further contact. But as always I caught myself looking back, 'an inquisitive nature' I said out loud, confirmation that the eyes were unknown and still looking. Strangely for me I began to feel at ease with the situation.

Never taking its eyes from mine it moved through the rush hour customers and sat at my small wooden table.
There was a strange intoxicating odour that drifted as an idea of something I had forgotten, maybe a cherished moment, promising the warmth and security of something heart-felt. Somehow I was trapped in its essence, drifting for what seemed like an age until the moment broke on the comedic clatter of a smashed plate. It was followed by the usual jeer from the house crowd. Happy for the momentary distraction, I tried to look away staring blankly at the newspaper in front of me.

I became aware that my senses were dulling but I couldn't react, the stranger leaned across towards me and like a mirror image I did the same. A sweet voice whispered into the air around me changing from male to female as it grew stronger, louder, it sounded familiar, like every voice I’d ever trusted speaking at the same time. The whispers took form “What is it you are looking for” spoken softly as though I had asked a question. The drone of the coffee shop had all but gone and the air between us had become pungent, sickly-sweet. I was lost again, my gaze wandered. The stranger was wearing a long overcoat that had intricate, understated patterns embroidered black on black. In my suspended state I could feel the labour in the fabric, the years trapped in each small stitch, tiny traces of light broke like waves beneath the patterns that changed shape as it breathed.
Without warning the stranger extended a withered hand, contrasted by perfectly manicured fingers, never before had a gesture seemed so inviting, I may have even smiled as my hand touched its palm.

The coffee shop was so busy that day, no one saw the stranger, no one saw me, no one even noticed as we crossed the threshold between our worlds and disappeared. I was told later that I had asked to leave and that the resonance of the wood in the table had caused us to be there at my chosen time.
If you are reading this now, then you have been successful and the resonance in your computer screen has opened another exchange. You are about to take the journey of your life……Turn around, watch me arrive.