Two

Everything was two. He contemplated the world with his espresso in his hand. That world where no matter what the figures were they all added up to two. The strong scent of coffee, sweet in its peculiar way, involved him and perfectly matched the mild notes of the red roses and delicate words and gestures and smiles and knowing looks which were part of that day.

At a table next to him, two exchanged unspeakable words in whispers, while on the sidewalk to his left several other twos walked hither and thither at a slow pace, intimacy flowing between them. The sunlight of that pleasant morning reflected on the white hair of another two sitting on a bench right across the street — the two speak in silence, a gift from time only for fortunate twos who get so far and no longer need to say words.

He looks at his watch; opens his laptop on the table, hesitates.

***

The office was a whirlwind. Not only was it hot as hell, but it was also Friday. That end of the day seemed to drag on for endless hours, phones were ringing in absolutely all desks. Her cubicle neighbor was on the phone with someone who was making her smile. In the aisle to her right, one of the IT guys had approached a girl who blushed, timidly, most probably because of the content of the conversation.

Right in front of her, spreadsheets propagated on her monitor, all of them unsolved. The phone rang, but she did not answer. Her eyes were now staring outside the panoramic window on the other side of the room; someone had had the idea of opening the blinds and so she could see the horizon up from the thirtieth floor. The longer she remained in that horizon the closer it got to her, and little by little she stopped hearing the world buzzing around her. Silence at last. There was nothing else between her and that line far away but that strong scent of coffee. She closes her eyes for a moment.

When she gets back to the computer screen, that little orange window beams on the taskbar. Time stops.