the waiter

by Marie Countryman

porcelin skin with rose blush cheek she sat dining alone, book propped up by salt shaker and creamer. her waiter, thinking her lonely, longed to take her home. "you are magnificent," he said, heart beating fast with fear and hope, and the truth made her laugh. she left a large tip and a pome, and made her splendid way out into the solitary night.