The Lives of Others by Lesley Whyte

Melanie is wearing a green dress today, with strappy sandals. She looks like she's ready for a date, a summer date, despite the fact that it's January and below zero out there. Her skirt wafts around her knees every time the door opens. She keeps checking her phone, anxiously, while she waits for her coffee. He hasn't arrived yet. He's late. She's getting a coffee so that she doesn't look like she's waiting for anyone, she's embarrassed by the fact that he's not here yet. She sat for ten minutes, looking at her phone every few seconds, before she decided to get up and grab a coffee. It's not Melanie's fault that nobody loves her. She's pretty and friendly and fun and outgoing. She should have someone that loves her. There must be something actually wrong with her. Something that chases men away and leaves her sitting alone in coffee shops on Thursday evenings.

David, however, is in a rush today. He's dressed in a suit, but he's undone the tie and his top button. His cheeks are decorated in black stubble, but his hair's greying at the temples. His cheeks are pink from the cold, but his skin is grey everywhere else. He's been struggling recently, since losing his job. Nobody is hiring right now. He can't afford that triple-shot expresso he's waiting for. He used to jiggle his keys in his hands while he waited, but he doesn't anymore. He sold the car. He sold his pride and joy, a silver Ferrari. He's stopped wearing his wedding ring, too. Poor David. He grabs his coffee without thanking Hayley, the barista who works at the coffee shop and the music store downtown, when she's not studying for her psychology degree.

"Natalie!" A shout comes from the kitchen.

Hayley hurries through the door, and I hear someone, a man, telling her to take the muffins out before they burn. Huh. I always thought she looked like a Hayley.