Last of the Ascension (Verse) - 19
Expectation
A bell sounded—
too small to matter.
The cold did not ring—
it settled.
Air shifted—
not seen, not named.
The door closed behind him—
with more finality than it should have.
Coffee filled the space—
warm, human, grounding.
It did not reach him.
“Welcome.”
A voice—
present, unguarded.
He breathed out—
as if he remembered how.
Then in—
borrowing calm.
“Marie.”
He gave her the name—
as if naming anchored him.
“I’ve come a long way—
for your coffee.”
Time collapsed—
into something almost ordinary.
Currency touched the counter—
a gesture he did not need.
“Hold this.”
“I’m expecting someone.”
Expectation—
spoken like certainty.
“Of course.”
No questions—
none required.
He turned away—
because staying would have been easier.
Outside—
the chill followed—
not strong, just persistent.
He chose the table furthest from the door—
distance mistaken for control.
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