That face. I knew it from somewhere... but I wasn't sure from where. That face sent chills down my spine. He looked at me. He knew me and could tell that I recognized him from somewhere... somewhere distant. Almost instantly he turned away, racing past the other civilians and out of the Restaurant.
"Charisma, are you even listening to me?" Molika sounded aggitated.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Just repeat what you said one more time? I'm sorry." I stuttered.
"Ugh. Well I was telling you about the Cocktail party that's going on at the Art Gallery down the street tomorrow night. I want you to come along so I'm not stuck with Kelly again. She certainly is enough to make anyone never drink alcohol again." Muttered Molika.
"Yeah, I know. Ever since she started drinking again she's been a bit... off. And Loud. And... annoying."
"You know, we should go check out the book store across the street," she implied.
"No, I think I'm gonna just head out and uhm, look for something at home." I had intentions of finding that man. Why had he seemed so afraid?
"Yeah sure, I saw you staring at that guy. I wonder why he ran out though... he seemed a bit old for you." She chuckled. "Well goodluck with Mr.Oldies. Later." She picked up her purse and walked out.
Shoving a $20 into the little money pouch on the check, and standing up, I knocked the chair over on accident, the waiter behind me tripped and almost spilled an entire tray of coffee's on some pour girls computer, but I reached back, almost instinctively, and pulled him upright before anything had a chance to spill. "Gee... thanks..." he, rather ungratefully, stated. He then proceeded to rush away.
When did I end up being able to do that? Since when do I have good reflexes? I have been slower than a snail for just about my entire life. Or have I...? Now that I think about it, I can't really remember.
Oh well. Something to figure out for another day.