Inconvenience

I sense with the man a stubborn inconvenience. His sliding of the glass door was done with the effect of drawing attention. His return from the barista to then shuffle his feet and drop his belongings reminded me of a heard of water buffalo coming to the edge. I was a crocodile just below the surface and watching, but against my nature to sneak up from behind and take him into the pool, I avoided him, never met his eyes, kept to myself, and continued the reading of the other life in the middle of the day trusting there would be other opportunities. The sun was bright. I could see every detail. There would be time; there always seemed to be time.