Opal Street 5th Ave

Opal Street, 5th Avenue
The snow had been falling, not too long ago. The slating, grey sky was hiding the early morning sun, and the residents were beginning to busy about the streets. Some cars passed by, smoke emitting from them and the smell of gasoline circulated through the air. Taxis were being stopped by the hollering men and women in suits and thick coats, clicking their heels. And checking their cell phones and watches, their routinely, indefatigable personas began to take effect.
On some streets, children played and twirled themselves around thin trees bordering the sidewalks. On the trees, there dangled ornaments and lights wrapped around them. Even across buildings, ornaments were hung from the wires. They lit up and flashed, illuminating at night. But in the day, they weren't too looked upon. Except by the children, whose eyes lit up at their dazzling affects and drew on huge smiles as they continued with their parents or other siblings hurrying onto their busy schedules.
Close to the corner of Opal Street, 5th Avenue, there was a coffee shop entitled, "Down-Home Den." The small, chocolate brown structure was hovered over by the taller, mahogany and grey brick buildings. On top of the displayed sign with a large painted cup of coffee, garner was fringed in dark gold and soft colored silvers. The door was to its left and the windows encompassed all to the right, framing with dark evergreen trimming. The smell of hazelnut espressos and mint caramel lattes emitted when customers opened and closed the door. There were so many customers. Every day, it was always busy.
Across the bustling shop, a man was sitting on a street bench, sipping into his full cup of coffee.
A girl, inside of the Down-Home Den, took notice of this man. She looked up at her mother for a response. But she was far too busy. She was chatting away with her friends as they all sat at a tall round table. Each filled their cups with loads of cre and sugar and kept all the wrappings in the middle.
The girl's round, sea green eyes kept looking up at her mother and began to tug at her coat.
"Mom, there's a man," she turned to look at the man again, then back at her. But her mother paid no mind, as she kept her persistency. At times, her mother didn't look down, but muttered, "Honey, not right now, I'm talking to my friends."
The girl furrowed her blonde brows and puckered her lips on her freckled, round face. 'I only want to know why there is a man out in the cold,' she thought. She looked around.
The interior was patterned of gold and orange striped wallpaper. Most all the wooden tables were arranged in the center, like the ones her and her mother were sitting in. With dark evergreen paddings, the lower booths bordered the walls, making extra room by the front counter.
Other customers were around. Ones were laughing and talking about their dreams and troubles, while others talked about what was on the news.
The smell of coffee was all around. The aroma spread to every inch and corner of the shop.
A smile beamed on her face and sparked an idea. She began to tug on her mother's coat again, this time to ask money for a cookie. Her mother heard her and willingly gave her a dollar, asking her not to bother again.
The girl raced up to the counter. Once she collected the cookie she hid it in her pocket. Then, she peered over to her mother, slowly inching her way to the door. When the coast was clear, she sneaked by her mother's table and squirmed through a group coming in. The bell jingled and the group was welcomed.
The girl, now outside in the cold saw the man, hunched over. The snow was keeping a steady pace and no car was coming in or out. She ran across to him. Slowing her pace, until, she was right in front of him.
He was clothed in a patched red coat. His jet black hair hid but flared outward from the knit hat he had on. Dirt and grease smudged and covered a fair amount on his tattered jeans and rain boots. The only part that wasn't covered was his hands, which were being kept warm by the heated Styrofoam cup filled with coffee.
'Does he not know I'm here?' she thought. Turning her head she almost stumbled over. She regained her balance. Her boots bunched together and she stood tall like a soldier as she spoke, "Hello."
The man lifted his head. His face was young, covered by a good amount of facial hair. Eyebrows were bushy and his skin was all red from the cold. Deep set blue eyes that were murky, stared at the girl.
She saw the cup of coffee. She turned back and back to him, "What are you doing with your coffee out here?"
He took a sip and looked back down to the ground. Rubbing the cup with his fingers he mumbled, "Enjoying some snow."
"Oh... Well here!" She dug in her pocket to retrieve the cookie. She placed it on the bench beside him and smiled.
He didn't say anything. He only kept sipping from his cup and looking down.
"Hey," the girl crossed her arms and began to pout at the man, "You're supposed to say thank you when someone gives you something!"
He looked back up, emotionless, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome," she muttered, beginning to kick her feet in the snow piles that formed. He watched her, adjusting himself. Again, she noticed his cup of coffee.
"Don't you want any cream or sugar in your coffee? Mother says it's too strong for her to drink, so she adds a gazillion packet of sugar and like, a lot of cream."
"I like it black," he stated.
He again drank more from the Styrofoam as she blankly looked at him, "Black?"
"That's what it's called when there is no cre or sugar in coffee."
"Oh, okay," she readjusted her purple hat and began to skip around the man on the bench.
"Why are you talking to me? Don't think you should get back to your mother and father?"
She stopped in front of him and looked at her favorite purple mittens. They were worn numerous times since her mother made them last year.
"My father is at work right now. He's a doctor. So it's just my mother and me. We're going to go shopping soon, once she's done with her friends."
He sighed, "That's very nice, but you didn't answer my question. Why, are you talking to me?"
"I just thought, you looked like you needed a friend..."
She plopped down next to him. When she wasn't looking, the man turned his head and smiled, staring at the road between the sidewalks.
He relaxed. Tapping her shoulder, he pointed up. They both smiled and watched the snow fall. Like falling angels, they danced down to them, kissing them softly upon their faces.
She then introduced some topics she enjoyed, and he began to open himself to her. She talked about her noisy dog she never really liked, and when she was younger, how the tall buildings looked like giant monsters that glowed at night. Then, she talked about the ocean, "I want to cross the Atlantic Ocean someday!"

She got up and began to dance around him. By his side on the ground, now was where the empty cup laid.
"I want to be a sailor, and venture out and explore the world. But, I also want to be an actress! I want to be in movies!"
She reached for the sky and began to laugh excitably. A sudden thought hit her and turning back she asked, "Do you think I am too young to love the ocean?"

He chuckled, "I think you're too young to begin to love anything."
"Am not," she cried, "Father says I'm not too young for anything!" She crossed her arms and stared down at him. His hands rested in his lap and smiled lightly.
"Oh, your hands," she mumbled, "Aren't they cold?"
"A little."
She looked at her mittens. Slipping them off, she handed them to him. "Here, you keep these. I can always tell my mother I lost mine."
He took a hold of them. Observing them, his fingers brushed through the soft material. He smiled greatly, "Thank you. Thank you very much."
"You're welcome," she smiled, the wind began to blow lightly.
Just then, her mother came out from the shop, looking frantically. Her friends, along from behind, called out for her. The girl bit her lip and turned back to the man.
"Uh oh, looks like I have to leave. I think she said we'll be coming here for a while. Will you be here tomorrow?"
He smiled lightly at her, looking back down to the ground and up again, "Only the heaven knows. They decide what happens to me now..."
The girl furrowed her brows and turned her head in wonderment, "What do you mean?"
Before he could response her mother caught sight of her and waited for the cars to pass before coming over.
"Oh, I better go. You can tell me later tomorrow, promise?"
He only nodded. The girl's smile grew from ear to ear. She giggled before turning and waving goodbye, knowing she'll see him again tomorrow. Smiling, he waved back.
Once in the car, her mother started asking her many questions. Her daughter apologized to her and told everything that happened. About the cookie, the coffee, the dancing and watching snowflakes fall and kiss them, and how she told him her love of the ocean.
After the story was done, her mother didn't know what to say. But, she did ask about her mittens. The girl looked out through the back seat window and smiled, "I gave them to him. I know he'll give them back. Maybe he'll give them back when I see him tomorrow."
But when tomorrow came, he never showed up. Not even the next day, or the day after that. Not even for the next few weeks. Or even the next few months. But every day, she hoped to see him again. As each day progressed, her pipe dreams were slowly diminishing.
Soon, she had forgotten that day. Her mother gave a new pair of red gloves. She didn't like them, but had no choice of the matter.
They stopped going to the Down-Home Den. The girl was busy with school and began to take acting classes. She always stared out at the ocean whenever she was feeling overwhelmed or lonely. It always led up to her trying to remember the past. Out of all the memories that had grasped, she could never remember that day. No matter how hard she tried.

Ten years later, Opal Street, 5th Avenue didn't change very much. All the buildings colors were fading. It was never slow. Except on some winter mornings, when it was just beginning to snow. The girl from before had landed a job as a Barista at the Down-Home Den. She remembered this was where her mother was so obsessed with the amounts of sugar and cre in her coffee. Also, how she was so tired of listening to her and her mother's dull conversations.
She wore a green apron as the others who worked before her did, and her long blonde hair was in a fishtail braid. She began to wear makeup now, hopefully making more tips for her college tuition. She was saving up for her dream. Her dream to go study abroad in England for acting, and to cross the Atlantic Ocean...
But today was slow. She twirled her pen and scratched her head. She then decided to clean the smudged windows, knowing that they would only get dirty again throughout the day. She grabbed the bottle, the rag and began to clean the upper window.
She concentrated on the insignificant speck and rubbed hard, until she noticed a figure across the street. She squinted hard. Feeling familiar about the moment, she ignored it and continued to clean. It hit her. She gasped and dropped the rag and bottle. The bottle's top unsnapped and the liquid chemicals poured out across the tiled floor.
She darted, pushing the door open with both hands. The bell jingled. The door closed. She stood outside in the cold, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
         The figure across the street was hunched over. His sleek, black hair was neatly kept, combing over to his side. He wore a black suit, covered by his twill coat and had a nice pair of dress shoes that were also black to match altogether.
She didn't recognize him at first. But she was able to now. Being held in his hands was a pair of old, purple knit mittens. They were the ones that were worn by an elementary student a long time ago.
He got up from the bench and looked at her directly. He was clean cut now and you can see his square shaped face, rosy with color. A small smile framed those dark, murky eyes from before. And now, turned into crystal were these aqua opals. She knew they were there all along from her past. She didn't speak. Tears only fell from her face and the wind blew softly, following to its trail to the Atlantic. He broke the silence, "Hello."
Her face squinted. She broke out into a heartfelt laugh, one that almost made her cry even more. Her make up smearing, her heart, racing with rapture, "Hello..."
The snow had been falling, not too long ago.