She stepped inside the coffee house. Her eyes took their time adjusting to the dimmer light. She was glad that she had thought to bring a sweater as the air inside seemed chilled. Her bare arms were thankful, too.

Amy slid into a chair at a small round table for two, after garnering a warm hazelnut flavored brew from the coffee counter. Her fingers clung to the mug like the ivy to the wall at the edge of her yard. She let the steam rise and warm the end of her nose as she breathed in its fragrance. She savored the flavor as she appreciated this time alone. These moments were so few and far between.

While she slowly sipped at her coffee, Amy took in the eclectic ambience of her surroundings. The helter skelter placement of the tables and the mismatched chairs was supposed to be charming. It only served to make her uncomfortable. The other patrons seemed to be in a very laid back state, however.

Just as Amy decided to quickly finish her coffee and leave, a man walked up onto the stage holding an accoustic guitar. Amy's heart skipped a beat. He looked so familiar.

As he sat on the stool in front of the microphone, Amy was startled to realize that she knew what this song would sound like. She'd seen the tilt of his head, heard the sound of his voice. Part of her was telling herself to quickly leave, but she couldn't move. Her eyes were watching his long, graceful fingers on the strings of the guitar--just like in her dream. She was memerized by them. The words of this song tugged at something deep within her. She could feel a tear break from the corner of an eye and slide down her cheek.

As he finished his song, Mike looked up and noticed Amy wiping the tear away. He felt as if his eyes were betraying him. His breathing stopped for a moment.

(to be continued)