no friends on a windy day

Ben Peterson scanned the crowded restaurant for her but she wasn’t there. He glanced at his watch and began to butter a breadstick but his trembling hand made it difficult. A single tear dropped into his fourth glass of 2006 Masi Contasera. The bottle had cost nearly a week’s revenue from Prairie Ocean Windsurfing. He watched the ripples in the wine. The waiter came to the table. Between shallow gasps for air he asked for the cheque. He paid and downed the last of the slightly salty wine. Just as he stood to leave she walked in. She was upset. She said she couldn’t be number two. She said if he loved windsurfing more than her then he should follow his heart. When he finally spoke she was already too far away to hear.