They were strangers
Huddled in front of a computer, focused
(not a Mac).
A couple, a couple years younger
(I am 34).
Squeaked my chair around and asked what they were working on.
A vacation, they said,
not too unfriendly. Also, not too friendly.
We're planning a vacation.
Whereabouts? I wondered
(because I am interested in these things: the minutiae of strangers' lives).
We're looking at Whidbey Island, one mumbled.
That's nice. I smiled. Squeaked my chair back
to my venti dark roast
(with three pumps toffee nut, which is free with registered card).
I will never see them again,
unless they move to Whidbey Island
and we do too and they bump into us at Starbucks
(and ask us questions about holiday plans that are none of their business).
But maybe there is no Starbucks there.
Or maybe we we will meet in Rhode Island,
someday.
At Starbucks.
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