Hello and Happy Friday,

Here is the rest, I hope you like it.

Less Than (continued)


I know you’ve guessed ‘the until’. Yes, I saw the numbered white appear over Clare’s head. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see it, though it sometimes caught me off guard; yet I was surprised because I loved her. I had fallen deep though I hadn’t spoken more than a word or two to her or looked into that lovely face for more than 5 seconds. I’d passed their table many times, walked by her back memorizing its shape, the straight, smooth vertebrae; wanting to touch that warm vulnerable spot that was the nape of her neck, her hair parting against it. I’ve never fallen in love at first sight though I’ve been in love before, it just never lasted and not just because I might know why she shouldn’t buy that new car next year.
I adored this woman whom I knew nothing about except for how long she would live. I needed to know her, to find out if she was happy and if she wasn’t I would make her happy for as long as I could. I needed, was desperate, to do this. And I understood it just wasn’t for Clare--because of how I felt--it was also for those whom the numbered white appeared and I was helpless to do a damn thing.
So the next time she came in alone—before the Timothy-Dalton-look-alike-arrived—and sat down at her table; me watching her from behind the kitchen door, oblivious to the noise from the staff; I took a deep breath, walked out and over to her. Pulling out the chair facing her I sat down. She looked startled at first then calmed. She had seen me around of course.
“My name is Fletcher,” I began. “I’m the manager here.”
“I know,” her eyes I saw were the color of summer leaves. “Sherry told me. I asked because you’re always here, you say hello to everyone with a smile and mean it.”
Caught off guard by the fact she’d noticed me. “It’s a pleasure to do it; I want every one to come back.”
“Like we do.”
“Like you do.”
“What do you want?”
I went for it. “Whatever you want.” I glanced up and saw him coming toward us. “To make you happy; for as long as I can.”
There was silence; we stared at each other until she said, “I love Coney Island.”

The End

Finally.

If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com

Until next time, God willing.