Smile. Nod. Accept payment. Provide change. Pour coffee. Wrap muffins. Give to client. Repeat.
I watch you from the line-up and notice your mechanical reactions to everyone that steps up to the cash. Your face beams with a smile, but your eyes are dull.
Wipe the counter. Get more cups. Start the dishwasher. Stack the plates.
I feel a sense of sadness at the aura around you and it makes me want to reach out. Instead, I stick my hands deep into the pockets of my coat and keep my arms pressed to my sides.
It's finally my turn but before I can give you my order, our eyes lock. My eyes burn as I see images of you stuffing muffins into the mouths of some customers, tossing burning coffee at others, and breaking dishes on the heads of still others. It's not a vision of you, it's a vision of your inner dreams. I shake myself, startled at this revelation, and see you doing the same. You sense that I saw what you wish for and, accepting that truth, you stare at me in wonder.
Your mouth widens into a huge smile and this time your eyes sparkle.