The World I Knew

I ran around, with my own little crowd
The usual laughs, not often, but loud
And in the world that I knew
I didn't know about you
—Duke Ellington

I went for a walk on a rainy day, bored of my circle of friends. I finally had enough of clichéd remarks and practiced indifference. I literally needed a breath of fresh air.

It was past two on a drizzly afternoon, and I could have been anywhere in London or Paris, but I was here, in Toronto, on a downtown cul-de-sac, kicking through wet leaves.

Scraps of Maple and Oak were slowly adding to a Lethe of molten lava—and I was ankle-deep in russet leaves.

I bent down and picked up one beautiful red maple star—it was jagged and perfect. I couldn’t recall the last time I stopped to stare at the sky, let alone, bend down and pick up a leaf.

I hesitated a moment, then opened my topcoat and gently slid my treasure into the inner pocket.

Furtively, I glanced about as if guilty of some social faux pas, but found no eyes observing me. The street was deserted. Still, the gesture proved one thing—I had lived a restrained existence for too long.

There was a small restaurant nearby, surrounded by an elaborate iron railing and the dull candle light through the leaded windows looked inviting, so on a whim, I decided to go inside.

I asked for a window seat where I could savour the somber stillness of the lane outside. There was a fire bubbling cheerfully in the grate and a pianist playing moody café music in the background.

I ordered a bottle of cabernet and luxuriated in the solitude.

There were two other couples in the restaurant, but other than that it was virtually deserted and that suited me fine.

The only sounds other than the comforting tic of rain against the windowpanes was the soft flutter of flames and tinkling piano music. I had found my cozy nook.

“Is this where you hide from the maddening crowd?”

I looked up and spotted Margaux Eaton who was almost invisible sitting in a shadowy alcove.

I must have looked dazed because she gave a soft laugh and said, “I hope I didn’t startle you, Dawes.”

I recovered my wits and manners. “Oh, hello Margaux—I didn’t see you sitting there in the shadows.”

“I didn’t want to invade your privacy, but politeness demanded I say something.”

“And I’m glad you did,” I lied, resigned to the end of my private reveries. “Would you care to join me?”

“I don’t want to intrude—are you waiting for someone?”

“No, nothing like that. The truth is I found myself with time on my hands and took a walk—and by chance, ended up here.”

Her face brightened, “That’s exactly what happened to me. I tried shopping, but the stores were crowded with people escaping the rain, so I decided to go where I knew no one would be—well, almost no one,” she smiled.

“Please, join me for a drink.”

She hesitated, “if you’re sure I won’t be interrupting.”

“A beautiful woman is never an interruption.”

As soon as I said it, I noticed she was indeed beautiful—why I hadn’t noticed that fact before was beyond me.

The fact is, I hadn't noticed a lot of things until just lately--and especially hadn't realized how dark and introverted I had become.

Perhaps now that was all about to change.

© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

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