Someone Who Looked Like Him

Around noon on a spring day, sunlight passed through the glass and touched the table. She was staring blankly at her cooling coffee, then looked at the street. The moment a man in a white T-shirt came around the corner, her heart skipped a beat. The closer he walked, the more unfamiliar the silhouette became. The man walked slowly, head slightly lowered, watching the ground. With each step came the sound of leather shoes on the paving stones. Cherry petals drifted this way and that in the wind and seemed to cling to the man's shoulder. She let out a short breath and turned her head. Drinking the cold coffee, a harsh bitterness spread, and a stinging scent stayed in her mouth. The man paused at the door. He tilted his head at his own shadow on the ground, then raised an arm to smooth his hair. Something about it looked graceful, and a small smile slipped from her. Ah, people look alike with only the slightest resemblance, it seems. She closed the message window that still had no reply and looked again at the spring light outside. Over the glass, white clouds drifted slowly by.