Wake up, David! Wake up!

My eyes wander from the line of people patiently waiting in the morning sun for a table to open up in the outdoor cafe to the young woman seated at the table across from me.

Dappled by the fluttering shadows from the linden tree, she seems out of uniform in this day and age, wearing an elegantly restrained dress rather than the usual jeans and tee shirt. No tattoos. No body piercings. Just a simple gold necklace and a gentle smile coaxed forth from the book she is reading, Stefan Zweig’s “The World of Yesterday.”

Held in reserve on the table is a collection of Pablo Neruda’s poetry with a colorful assortment of bookmarks blossoming forth like flowers.

The young lady, and she is a lady and I very seldom use that word these days, gives Herr Zweig a moment’s rest to indulge in a thoughtful sip of coffee from her requested porcelain cup rather than one of those paper containers preferred by the surrounding customers fiddling with their “smart” phones rather than conversing with their table companions.

She sadly, no, sardonically shakes her head at the world she see around her this morning. A mischievous smirk teases her smile. I love ladies who smirk!

Then she notices me studying her.

Catching a glimpse of the book I have brought along for companionship, she stretches her elongated Nefertiti neck with that gold necklace for a glimpse of the title, the author and maybe, I am hoping, a glimpse of me.

Then that smirk becomes a brilliantly friendly smile! Our eyes meet...

“Wake up, David! Wake up!”

Oh well.