Lemons
Yellow
Yellow
My
hands shake as
I
nervously flip the notepad.
“Lemonade,”
the
blonde murmurs.
“Just
a glass of lemonade.”
She
doesn’t meet my eyes,
only
stares
at
the glinting glass table in front of her.
I
wonder if it is normal
to
order lemonade so early.
Do
we even sell lemonade
this
early?
I
carefully bring out her drink,
the
first order I’ve taken,
noticing
the shining sunrise
beaming
through the window
causing
the white daffodils to appear tinted yellow
-
similar to the yellow of the lemon
wedged
on the glass in my hands.
“Anything
else?”
I
ask.
I
place the lemonade in front of her.
She
shakes her head and still stares as
the
sun continues to rise
and
the object of her attention
that
I hadn’t noticed before
reflects
enough light to draw my eye:
a
small, diamond-clad band,
lying
alone on the table.
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