Love Blues

Two young lovebirds stagger in; the girl's head resting on the guy's broad left shoulder, while his hand securely winds around her narrow waist.

He gulps quietly.

He'd imagined tonight with Josephine like that. No, he`d imagined her walk in, then he would reach out to her across the restaurant - Kiss her gently on the forehead, hold her head so close to his heart she would hear its quick strokes, then he would whisper those words...

He has had them rehearsed and memorised. He believes she would not resist.

The lovebirds are settled into a cosy seat in a semi dark corner at the left. It is hard to make out their faces but he could hear the girl's muffled giggle. She laughs just like Josephine. The guy swells on a thick baritone he's almost certain is faked. He tries to look away but couldn't, until fears they'd noticed him.

*phone rings*
Josephine. He frantically reach for his breast pocket. It's his mum calling. His heart deflates.
"Hello mum... Yes, this is Tunde...I'm fine... No, I'm...just a bit cold here..."
A tiny bead of sweat breaks on his forehead and meanders through his crop of beard till it tingles him on the jaw.
He hates lying, especially to his mother. But he isn't going to tell her he thinks he might be stood up and is terribly lovesick.

"...Yes mum, I'm here...Happy Valentine to you too... I love you too."
He holds up the phone till the call reading stops. He dials Josephine for the seventeenth time.
*The number you are calling is either switched off or out of the coverage area, plea...*
He ends the call.

Outside, day light gently surrenders to darkness, electric signposts beam colourful kaleidoscope into the night. Indeed, there is love in the air. Women, young and old clad themselves in some sort of red clothing, particularly hot and sexy. There's is something really lively about the men, could it be testosterone?

Josephine is three hours late without communication. There's is a couple beside him who don't seem fettered by the public. The only woman,who seem to remember him today is his mother, but why does it depress?

He flags down a taxi, falls heavily into the back seat. For the first time in eight months of knowing and loving Josephine it feels odd, maybe proposing to Josephine would have been a bad ideas.
"Where?" The driver asks.
"Just drive on."
And it feels peaceful.

On the same spot the taxi picked him, an Escalade saloon pulls over.
Josephine alights with the tall, dark and handsome dude she met yesterday.
There's love in the air.