​Her wedding band slips a little now. Once a snug silver enclosure around her finger, it moves with ease as she fiddles with it over coffee. The brew is cold and stale and stagnant; and her ring is loose and restless.

The bustling cafe, a usual safe haven when she needed respite from the dreary tone her life has become, does nothing for her today. People march in and out, drinks flow and cups empty; and the humdrum only adds noise to the cacophony of chatter and mugs clinking.

“How did we get here?” she says, her eyes darting between the man sat before her and her now-cold drink. Dark and silky with earthy undertones, and an awakening to the senses. She notes how alike the two are are — he being slightly more bitter than her abandoned espresso.

He doesn’t look​​ away from the coffee machine behind her. As the barista fixes drink after drink, his eyes remained fixed on the vortex of beans grinding in a violent dance to be sipped on eager and thirsty tongues.

“Where are we?” he asks, unblinking. The beans whirl and crush and still.

“Here,” she sighs, twirling her token of his perceived love — loose and lax. No longer a brilliant dazzle of silver; even the tiny diamonds have long lost their sparkle.

“Well, we walked here, didn’t we?” he says, eyes flickering to her face. Still lovely, but without the brightness he once adored.

“Yes, we did. With our eyes closed, yet wide open.”

© LaYinka Sanni, 2016.


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