A table for two

Sniffles while sat opposite…

Is it a breakup

He is mostly still

Fairly calm

With the occasional tap

Of his cream trainers

She hides behind her

Glasses, Hair, Coffee mug

Still sniffling

I can’t help but wonder

Why she is crying

They talk in hushed tones

Directed at one another

Bouncing back & forth

Tucked away in a corner

I notice there are no tissues or napkins

On their table.

But I am armed

With 7 packets precisely

Of super soft boots own brand

Tissues

Left over from my father’s funeral.

I offer her a packet.

She seems offended

Crossing her arms

Declining

Shaking her head

He offers me a sad smile

I sigh

& pick up my pen