Karin

You worked in a coffee shop.
On autumn days she became especially lively: someone was sitting at a laptop, someone was coming in a noisy company, someone was quietly parting over a cup of cold coffee.

But among all the visitors, one girl for some reason always attracted your attention.

She didn't come often, but her silhouette somehow remained memorable. Calm, focused, as if a little apart from the rest of the world.

One such autumn day, the coffee shop was a real hive of activity. Orders poured in one after another, and you barely noticed what was going on around you.

You didn't notice how she was sitting at the table by the window.
Didn't see how her gaze sometimes rose.
And how her pencil glided quietly across the paper.

An hour passed. People began to disperse, the noise gradually died down.

You finally managed to catch your breath and noticed that the girl was already about to leave.
For some reason, something inside me clenched.

Why so fast this time?..

She walked out of the coffee shop.
You came to clear the table.
It was clean there. But there were sheets of paper lying on the edge.

You were about to run out into the street to return them, but your gaze caught on the drawings.
You were on the sheets.

A few quick sketches of how you make coffee, how you hold your mug, how you smile at your customers.

And in the corner of each page there was one signature. Karin.

The cheeks flushed traitorously.
But then another small leaf fell next to the leaves. You picked it up.

There was a phone number.
And a few lines written in a slightly uneven handwriting:

"You've become my muse. I can't get your silhouette out of my head. All I want to draw is you. It seems... I have a real illness."