I sit in the cold cafe,

Fingers wrapped a mug of spiced coffee,

I see a sea of strangers,

Stretched before me,

All talking and bent close to each other,

What secrets do they have?

Is one a thief?

Is one a murderer?

Who sits next to me at the round table?

Does he have a dirty and ask sordid secret?

I put my head down,

Trying to not analyse,

I can hear the ringing starting in my ears,

The thump of my heart,

The noise rising to a crescendo and symphony of white noise,

I felt my chest tighten and grip the mug harder,

My heart thinks louder in my chest,

I can’t hear past the white noise,

Or feel past the suffocation,

Then a hand is on the table,

Palm on the surface,

Scarred and with neat nails.

A cup follows then he sits,

I look at him as he smiles,

“Hello.” He says in a chocolate velvet voice,

The white noise disappears as I stare into his eyes and smile,

“Hello.” I reply.

I sometimes forget,

How easy it is to say hello to a stranger.