If he didn’t take the chance then there was no point in looking. It was only for a second, for a moment in time, his attention divided.
In a shop to his right, a young woman worked away baking treats. She noticed his sweet gaze and shy stature.
His eyes locked in absolute adoration, but the moment had passed, the chance passed by, or in fact, he walked away.
Perhaps it wasn’t too late, he could turn back. He paused in his tracks.
Work was only a few minutes away and being a tad bit late wouldn’t hurt. His coworkers were already dead inside and in their systematic world, the slightest inconvenience would be the height of entertainment for the week, aside from the occasional water dispenser banter.
He turned around and walked back to his chance. He stopped. He turned around again towards work, maybe his coworkers would mind tardiness.
He continued on his way to work, and he stopped again. He spun and walked in the direction away from work. Again, he stopped, and he realized that he must look rather odd to the people around him.
The child from across the street watching him surely did. The child pointed out the man to their mother. The mother responded by saying that it wasn’t polite to stare at strangers.
Back to the man, he thought that maybe he deserved to take a moment for himself. He rarely ever did and that was something past girlfriends -and his mother- would always complain about. Happiness could be waiting for him, and the pursuit of happiness was something the Americans here always rooted for, or was that the British? Or the French? This job of his always had him forgetting what country he was relocated in.
This could be a new beginning for him: a slight change in routine to change his life. He marched ways further from work.
He stopped at a glass door. Looking inside, he thought of what to say and like any unreasonable person would do, he began to overthink.
“What if I say the wrong thing?” he wondered, “ What if someone notices how out of place I am? What if an alarm goes off right when I enter?”
Shaking off more intrusive thoughts, he gathered his courage and entered the shop.
There she stood, behind a glass pane of sweets. Her hair tied up, an apron wrapped around her waist, and her ears decorated with small diamonds.
The man took a breath and walked up to the counter, “Excuse me miss.”
“Oui monsieur,” so it would be a French pursuit of happiness, or was that actually an American thing?
Getting back to the task at hand, the man continued, “If you would be so kind,” he pointed to the glass, “to give me that last slice of chocolate cake?”
Handing the man his cake, the woman smiled and in a French accent asked, “Anything else for you, handsome?”
“No, that would be all, thank you” the man smiled and paid for his cake.
The woman stood in confusion.
In utter delight, the man left the shop eating his cake on the way back to work. This was absolutely worth the detour. He had his cake and ate it too, because, what else do you do with cake?
By the time he finished his treat, he arrived at work. He then realized just how late he was and how he should have picked something up for his coworkers as well.
Perhaps there would be a next time.
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