Mundane, and monotonous..two words I can use to describe the city. Everyone always wonders how exciting and riveting it must be to live here. They call it "the city that never sleeps." Something is always happening, always moving. But, that's just the thing. Something is ALWAYS happening. I think I would be more impressed and amazed if the city grew quiet for once. If somewhere, someone or something actually DID sleep. With men on their blackberries, and business women balancing files and coffee, monotony sets back in. So that is why I am here, every Tuesday afternoon. The cafe below my apartment serves coffee. Now, it's not the best coffee, but it is still coffee. I come here because no one else does. It is not one of those busy Starbucks, or Dunkin' Donuts. People don't yell out orders, or shove through the crowd to get to their double shot, mocha frappes. It is quiet, and quaint. Just the thing I need.

One rainy Tuesday, I sit below the awning and let the water drip before me. Protected under the fabric, I watched a miniature waterfall. Then, a damp and fragile figure stepped into my sight and the waterfall is disturbed. It shakes off the attacking droplets, and out from underneath a parachute sized raincoat, a man evolves. He is old, with long, white hair that is held neatly in a ponytail just below the crook of his neck. His skin is fair, and his eyes are a deep emerald green. His stance is fragile, but beneath his skin, and beneath his age lies something young..he glances towards me, and holds a stare. He looks at me as if he wasn't sure that I was really there.
"Can I help you?" I say.
He hesitates and blinks. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, it's just..tell me, what is your name?"
"My name is Wendy." I say.
"That's a very nice name, but if you don't mind. Could you tell me your full name?"
I was uneasy..he looked as if he were excited over something, as if he needed assurance.
"Wendy Ann Morris."
He smiled, almost holding joy.
"Thank you." He walks into the rain, forgetting why he stopped at the cafe' in the first place.
Thank you? That's it? I tried to go back to my coffee and my waterfall, but that old man was keeping me from moving on. Why did he have to know my full name? Who was this mysterious stranger that toppled my quiet Tuesday afternoon?