Sitting in the Fremont coffee, my back uncharacteristically to the door, typing away furiously at my computer. Finally in that groove… until a day dream interrupts…
I hear the sound of the door swing open behind me. Footsteps fall closer a stranger approaching from behind. My heart quickens, as I can picture him without turning around. Handsome, smiling, curious: He’s come to see if I’m really here. To work beside me.
The footsteps pass.
Oh. It’s not you.