• I had planned meet him in the coffee shop in Brisbane. Just to work colleagues grabbing a drink together. I have often passed by this place but I never had the desire to enter.

    When I arrive he is already seated at a table near the window. Serene is the word that comes to mind as I follow his gaze. I can see the Brisbane River; the bus way momentarily obstructs the view. I can see to the other side of the river, many more people are making their way to and from the Queensland art gallery or museum. On our side of the river trickles of people quickly making their way from one place to another. Their thoughts are obviously else where as they battle for right of way down the street.

    ‘Sit,’ he says, gesturing the chair opposite him. A broad smile stretches across his face, it didn’t reach his eyes. I felt hollow and false as I return his smile and take my place. The chair is like a cube with a seat carved into it, I find it uncomfortable. I look across at him and feel the first wave of awkward silence. He leans back in his chair and I wonder if this is to charm the air around him. [iFeel relaxed], he is telling the room I am so you should to. Just because he wishes it doesn’t make it happen. I start to feel my smile falter and hasten to open our conversation,
    ‘How about today’s weather? This morning I could have sworn it wasn’t going to rain,’ I say and end with a light chuckle. He returns my chuckle with another of his broad smiles, ‘I agree with you there,’ he says. Silence again.

    I take this opportunity to look around the room. The place unsettles me, the calm structured placement of everything. The room speaks of structured people and scripted conversation. Maybe he never noticed this, I think to myself. I look back at him. He seems to be studying me, looking for something to comment on to continue our conversation.
    ‘How are you?’ he says. A silly question, giving the perfect illusion of choice but the answer is already scripted.

    He wants to hear that I’m fine. So he can assume that the world I see is sunshine and lollypops with everyone happy like in a Disney movie. Any minute I expect to look out that window and see someone on the street to burst open in song to tell of they joy. Of course then everyone will respond in synchronised dances everyone knows. Oh what joy Sally May is having today I would express also in joyful song.

    I could tell him the truth he doesn’t expect to hear. He doesn’t want to know that last night I felt alone in the world and cried myself to sleep. I prayed through my tears that the world will look better tomorrow. Hopeful I would not hurt as much in the morning, but until then I am continually screaming on the inside. That I look out on the world and see all those people rushing back and forth and wish they moved slower. I hope one day anyone could ask a stranger for directions or that someone would stop to help. There is everything wrong with the world and it starts with the Sally May’s and ends with the Joe Smith’s. Sally May does not seem to care about anyone else and leave them to rot continually thinking those others must have gotten what they deserved. Only sometimes wondering if they had stopped to help, what would have happened? Perhaps if Joe Smith did not exist, Sally May would not fear the consequence of helping.

    He doesn’t want to hear that, the things that keep me up at night.
    ‘Just fine,’ I answer, smiling with a hollow and empty charm.

    ‘How are you?’ I ask him.