Mel was seated at one of the small tables outside the cafe, on the solitary street. He seemed absorbed by the newspaper in front of him. He was rather elegant, with his white well groomed moustache, with a clean freshly shaven cheek, and the elegant black hat he always wore. He was a very handsome man. He was always in good shape and always wore his best clothes. After his retirement he did not give up the habit of taking care of himself. He didn’t give that habit up even after his wife had gone. He had been taking care of himself for himself. He was very pedantic, and Anne, his wife, had accepted him like that. His life had been a precise ritual. And she was fine with it. Although, sometimes she wished he had been more daring, or more careless. Sometimes his ritual got on her nerves. But soon she got over those feelings, embracing the stability given by that ritual. Yes, he was very stable. He was reliable. Yet he was oblivious of how his character was perceived by the others, including Anne. He had his own ritual in his own world. The world revolved around him. He was the sun in his galaxy.
October 27th, 2021
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