Is what you see, what you get?
They must be in their late thirties or early forties. Hard to tell at that distance. Chin in hands, or arms folded on the table, solemn. Listening. Or not. That moment when life seems wrong or different or that it has prepared you for something. Sounds good in your head, anyway. One of them has something very important to reveal. You can't tell which one. The other is full of expectation. And yet you can't say which. You wait for one of them to slip up. There is a movement at the periphery of their sight. A bird, perhaps. Or the shadow of a memory. Because one of them jerks their head, staring, vigilant. Turns back to their companion. It's the woman. Her straight, raven-black hair swishes around her cheek. Your partner! The adreneline spurts towards your heart as you see her slide what looks like an envelope across the table. It remains untouched. Slowly her companion swivels their head, training their sight in the same direction. Towards the entryway to the courtyard caf...
