He must have been in his mid eighties, slouching and not completely in control of his gestures. His eyes delivered fatigue, yet a sparkling glint of enthusiasm that was accompanied by a shy smile, welcoming me to watch their table. He peeled off the layers of his croissant with his misshapen knotty fingers, utterly unaffected by the mess he was making with the crumbs. He chewed on the pastry and every so often would dip a piece in his frothy café con leche. She had a dancing thing going on and was busy bobbing up and down with her own moves to the background music, which apparently only she could hear through the noisy outbursts in the café. She teased him with her hands and giggled every time he attempted to grab them. His lack of precision made her giggle, by which he felt rather proud. She was a bouncing ball of energy, also oblivious to her surroundings, high on her own adrenalin. They mutually fed off each other’s attention, effortlessly entertaining each other.
A flaming tangerine fluff stained her unblemished upper lip as she was helped to drink from the largest glass of fresh orange juice I had ever seen. Between her skits and stunts she was wiped and fed by the final member of this moving picture. Patiently she explained to him what the cackle was all about, whilst being smothered with kisses by her precious princess. He nodded back with the brightest smile, again talking to me with his shimmering eyes. As she divided her attention between her sun and moon, I noticed her own coffee was left untouched and turned cold. Unaffected, she sipped her now frozen coffee and instinctively searched for warmth by seizing her back with a tight bear hug.
My time here was up and I had to leave. If I'd had one wish that evening, it would have been to replay and repeat.
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