Nighttime came quickly. She walked inside the café, unsure of whether she was feeling exhilarated or fearful.
A few people sat at the bar. One or two tables were taken by a few couples. She chose a table and waved discreetly to order a drink. The waiter stood leisurely at the bar, cleaning wine glasses with a dirty rag, and he took his time to serve her.
Sonya waited for her date. She waited for an hour. She thought about what her life had been till then. In her late 50s, single, no children, she had focused on her job and her hobbies.
She waited for two hours. She went to every class reunion. She stayed in touch with school friends and old neighbors through the social media. She went to any gathering she could. She met so many people, hoping, always hoping, to have some sort of companionship. She even went into virtual worlds, exploring new possibilities.
She waited for three hours and no one showed up. Perhaps it was a prank. Perhaps someone she actually knew had sent her that private message. Perhaps they were waiting, spider-like in their little cobwebs, to see her squirm online, complaining about human nature being oh so miserable. Being as self-righteous and self-centered as she was, they knew she would be extremely vocal about what happened to her. No detail, of course, but the message would be there.
Deep inside, she knew she would do just that. Somehow, she had to have her petty little revenge. That little something that would make her feel at peace with herself. She had been tricked, yes, but she would let the world know that she wasn’t the sweet lady everyone said she was.
Her anger grew steadily as she thought about those wasted three hours. She had even done her hair right and added the bit of extra make-up.
As she was preparing to leave, the dark ambiance of the Café lit up with a blinding light. For a fraction of a second, she thought it was some sort of religious epiphany she was experiencing.