Introduction

Don had been thinking about what Brenda looked like naked when the strange woman walked into the café that morning, that’s why he almost missed her altogether. He was sitting across from the front counter of the café, where the owner could still hear him talk while she moved gracefully between pours and steamed milk. He really couldn’t stand the taste of coffee, to be honest, and the persistent clatter of laptops all around him made his knee start to jiggle, but there was something about being there. The chairs and tables seemed so impermanent and floors never looked to be entirely clean, not even the clientele remained consistent for an hour—a minute. It was a world that could build and collapse upon itself at moment’s notice, never evolving or devolving in earnest.

Don liked to sit in the middle of the café and watch it ebb and flow. He found a weird pleasure in being the constant of this microcosm—a soft mass of a body encircled by quiet chaos while his whole person sat entangled around a mug of coffee. His blue eyes were fixated on the center of the table, two orbs weighing heavily on two cheekbones. Every part of him sitting completely and unchangeably locked in thought. And then he blinked. Once. Which made his head lift away from his body for the first time that morning which made him say something for the second time that hour. His head pivoted towards the counter.

“Hey Brenda, have you seen that movie that’s out? You know the one I mean…”

Brenda kept her head bent over the espresso machine, furiously polishing the stainless steel beast.

Don tilted his head upwards to see if she had heard him. His eyes melted even further downward as his nose pointed towards Brenda. After a beat, he tucked his head back to where his body had been waiting for it. She heard me, he thought. She must have heard me. Don took a breath and went for round two, popping his head back towards the counter with a nervous smile.

“That movie, where the two guys are on a train… and the train is about to crash… and one of them has to jump in the opposite direction to slow the momentum and save everyone else’s lives….”

Don trailed off and shook his head at himself, his hands gripping tighter against his mug and his legs slowly clenching closer together. He could hear the symphony of keyboards crescendo-ing just softer than the sound of his embarrassment. Don stared, defeated, at Brenda’s backside—willing it to turn around. She was wearing a dark pair of jeans that morning and he could trace the lines that her underwear was making against her ass. The seams were exactly where the seams of Don’s briefs laid against his own ass which made him wonder if Brenda was wearing men’s underwear, or a man’s underwear. He stared closer as the microcosm of his world changed again—another gear turning to shift everything to the side.

Brenda turned around just in time to see Don’s eyes move one second too late from where her ass had been.

“Is that the movie that Val Kilmer is staging as his comeback?”

She took a step towards the front counter and gracefully leaned her forearms against the tabletop so that her hair swooped down across her face and the tattoo below her collarbone was just visible above the neckline of her t-shirt. Don’s eye met hers with the effort of a mature man. He managed a few more words.

“That’s the one. Have you seen it yet?”

Don tried to control the contortions of his body but a giant smile crept across his face despite his best efforts, his cheeks exploding to twice their normal size. The sight of pure joy. Brenda lifted her body and arched her back so that her chest stuck out and her hipbone kissed the back of the counter, chest-tat now on full display.

“Haven’t seen it. Whenever I see Val Kilmer act, all I think about is fighter jet. My cousin was killed by a stewardess.”

She let her head drop a little to the right with a half-grin, feigning thought. Don stared at her, eyes in complete awe. And then the trance broke. Natural defense mechanisms took over as Don's head tilted back with nervous laughter, all while his eyes snuck longing glances below Brenda's neckline—a man could be strong for only so long. Brenda broke her stance for a moment, looking directly into Don until he turned, deadpan, back to the table.

It was then that the strange woman walked in-- when Don was hunched over his cold mug of coffee, mentally taking his eye further down Brenda’s blouse. Between breasts and Val Kilmer and the smell of coffee moving into everything, Elizabeth walked into Don and Brenda’s microcosm.