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Out of time girl

 

The dark roast smelled rich and warm.

        "Thanks," I said, "why is your internet so slow?"

        Gesturing towards the plate glass the barista said, "I don't know. Maybe because we're so close to the edge?" That made sense. "I can ask?"

        "No, that's OK. But thanks." No need to waste both our time.

        She lingered, no other customers demanding her attention. Only the occasional dog-walker and their mutt braved the rainy promenade outside.

        "Haven't seen you in here before. You a student?"

        "I'm studying for a degree in tourism and leisure. This is my holiday job."

        Turned out she was nineteen. Not only beautiful with natural blonde hair, a pretty face and a pretty everything else, she was clearly intelligent and possessed great customer etiquette.

        "I can remember the days of dial-up, when the internet really was even slower than this," I said, pointing at the spinning dial on my laptop screen.

        Her eyes narrowed just perceptibly.

        "In fact, I remember the world long before even mobiles existed or smart devices, or the internet, even home computers."

        "I wish I lived in that world," she sighed.

 

 

 

Copyright © Russell Cavanagh

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