The Rendezvous
Acrylic on reclaimed shipping cardboard / 4” x 6”
This box lived at a cafe, its corners worn, holding coffee beans shipped from lands far away. While tourists came for the Golden Gate views, two hearts slipped in for something far more intoxicating. On the third Monday of each year, they travelled to the city and occupied opposite corners of the cafe, playing a game only they knew. Perched in the window seat, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, sensing his gaze. Her fingers toyed with the top button of her blouse, slipping it undone, and she ran her hand through her hair, as if the room was too warm. He watched, lazily tracing the rim of his ivory mug, steam curling around his fingers. When their eyes finally locked, and her cheeks flushed, he knew it was time. She stood, took his hand and led him out the door, just like she had on that foggy morning ten years ago. Even after carpools, bedtime stories, and school lunches, they still knew how to make each other feel like the only two people in the world.
Acrylic on reclaimed shipping cardboard / 4” x 6”
This box lived at a cafe, its corners worn, holding coffee beans shipped from lands far away. While tourists came for the Golden Gate views, two hearts slipped in for something far more intoxicating. On the third Monday of each year, they travelled to the city and occupied opposite corners of the cafe, playing a game only they knew. Perched in the window seat, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, sensing his gaze. Her fingers toyed with the top button of her blouse, slipping it undone, and she ran her hand through her hair, as if the room was too warm. He watched, lazily tracing the rim of his ivory mug, steam curling around his fingers. When their eyes finally locked, and her cheeks flushed, he knew it was time. She stood, took his hand and led him out the door, just like she had on that foggy morning ten years ago. Even after carpools, bedtime stories, and school lunches, they still knew how to make each other feel like the only two people in the world.
Acrylic on reclaimed shipping cardboard / 4” x 6”
This box lived at a cafe, its corners worn, holding coffee beans shipped from lands far away. While tourists came for the Golden Gate views, two hearts slipped in for something far more intoxicating. On the third Monday of each year, they travelled to the city and occupied opposite corners of the cafe, playing a game only they knew. Perched in the window seat, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, sensing his gaze. Her fingers toyed with the top button of her blouse, slipping it undone, and she ran her hand through her hair, as if the room was too warm. He watched, lazily tracing the rim of his ivory mug, steam curling around his fingers. When their eyes finally locked, and her cheeks flushed, he knew it was time. She stood, took his hand and led him out the door, just like she had on that foggy morning ten years ago. Even after carpools, bedtime stories, and school lunches, they still knew how to make each other feel like the only two people in the world.