The Moon's Aside

I sat in the back booth by myself. No coffee, no pie. “I’m good, thank you.” My watch ticked, matching the clock on the wall. “I’m just waiting for someone.” As I looked out the window I saw the moon interrupt the sun’s monologue. I thought about leaving. I thought about how it might be a nice change of pace for you to be the one left waiting. As hard as I tried I couldn’t bring myself to do it; just one more look around the place, as the waitress walked by again. The moon grew brighter; her iridescent shine flooding the streets like a spotlight while my hopes flickered, crumbling with stage fright. But I had been told it was rude to get up before the intermission. Still she insisted. “On three,” said the moon from her darkened stage. “One… two… three.”