Okay, so I ran into him. It was on a weekday, and he’d brought his charm along. He was also attentive and held the door open for me instead of letting it slam in my face. We had a nice little chat—it didn’t last long, but it was enough. He had a child with him who looked a bit tearful, and it had a snotty nose, which I definitely didn’t want on my clean coat.

When I left in the taxi, which took its sweet time arriving, he called out, "Shall we meet at half past five at the café on the market square?"

I gave a quick nod and got in. I felt relieved as the car drove off, and the taxi driver didn’t prattle on at me endlessly.

Once back at the office, I wondered whether that bloke with the odd name—Janes or José—had meant what he said or if he was just joking. Could I stay away? Would it be rude if I didn’t show up? I hoped he hadn’t read my work address on the file I was carrying. What if he were a stalker or some serial killer?

The lights switched off, and I felt a chilly draft. I wondered where I’d left the letter opener. The thing was an antique, inherited from my grandfather, but it had a very sharp point. Just to be safe, I slipped a biro into my pocket—apparently, you could gouge an eye out with one of those. As a single woman these days, you’ve got to be able to defend yourself. The world looks far less rosy and isn’t nearly as safe as it used to be.

After work, I decided to swing by the market square anyway, and before I knew it, I was sitting at a table in the restaurant there. The view wasn’t bad, and it was fairly busy. But the man with the vague promises never showed. So there I was, looking like a right plonker in my nice coat and hat, especially as it got later and everyone else had left.

The table had already been cleared, and the waiter gave me a pitying look, his face saying, "Look at this silly cow, sitting here while that bloke’s probably already shacked up with some other bird."

About half an hour later, the owner offered me a cup of tea and said, "Drink this at your leisure, then would you mind settling the bill and leaving? I’ve got a wife and kid waiting for me at home. Goodnight, madam. Let the waiter know if you’d like him to call you a taxi."

_{14.5.25
Painting: Automat (1927)
Painter: Edward Hopper - USA -
The contest Art & Writing is hosted by @solperez
prompt: vague promises by @freewritehous
Exodus: 7
The original text is Dutch
@almaguer @jiva34 @jiya99}