Marco noticed because he'd been watching the clock, willing his shift to end. The Café del Pi was nearly empty at this hour—that dead zone between late lunch and early evening when the Gothic Quarter caught its breath. Tourists had wandered off to find their next photo opportunity. Locals hadn't yet emerged for their vermut.

She wore a green scarf, the kind his mother used to knot around her hair before mass. Her fingers gripped the spoon with the careful attention of someone performing surgery. Stir, pause. Stir, pause.

#ordinarymoments

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#ordinarymoments

You can write like this too