Nothing

He feels numb these days. The cafe is there. But she is not. Weird, because he never felt sapped waiting at the cafe for her before he had met her. Those days, it was the search that sustained him.

The wait is very different now. He goes to the cafe, sits at this one corner seat, sips the same coffee and stares at the blank laptop screen. Nothing registers. Nothing is conjured on the notepad. Nothing happens. Sometimes a blank longing wells up deep inside, but fizzles out again.

(BTW, in one of his half-deadnesses at the cafe, he typed this up. Not much happy with this either.)

On the other hand, his other life is getting back to normal. Regular times observed. Wife happy.