There was a cold wind blowing down Whitney Avenue.
I hadn't been to this bookstore in a long time, at least ten years.
It was a lovely place, even more now than it was then.
It had an adjoining cafe, with a narrow doorway between them.
I had drifted in there, having not been there in so long. I wasn't really after books this windy late October day, I simply wanted... escape.
After looking around for a few minutes, I went to the other coffee stand, the one in the bookstore itself.
Within a glass case, rows of wonderful pastries could be seen, so I decided to try one (very sweet), and accompanied it with a latte. There were two couches near the counter, a nice place to sit and relax.
The music they were playing was nineteen nineties fare, maybe no later than two thousand and three. Aside from the young woman behind a counter with a new iBook, it could have easily been some day more than a decade ago, and my mind began to drift back to that time.
A younger couple walked in. They were perhaps in their mid thirties. They struck me as the artistic type (kindred spirits), though not as radical as many. There seemed to be a sadness between them, conveyed in facial expressions and gestures. Something was sad between them.
I watched them, studying the clearly sad interplay between them.
After watching their few minutes of silent shopping, Eagle Eye Cherry's "Save Tonight" started playing. I could see her look up briefly, coyly, with hurt in her eyes, but then back down to the book she was holding. He caught her glance, put down what he was holding, and walked up to her.
They were standing in a section of shelves that formed an open box, the fiction section. As he got to her, he reached his left arm around her waist, and slid his right hand into hers, and pulled him to her.
He began to dance with her.
I never knew you could dance to that song.
Yet they were.
It was a slow, tender dance.
She rested her head on his chest, now wrapping both arms around him.
There were tears in her eyes, causing them to sparkle, which could be easily seen even from where I sat.
They danced until the song ended, and then stood still when the next song played.
She looked up, and he kissed her lightly, tenderly.
Then, hand in hand, they walked out.
Into that cold October wind that blew down Whitney Avenue.