David enjoyed working in the local cafe, his papers clothing the table, the low buzz of conversation as soothing as the hiss of waves on sand.
He looked down the column of figures, felt the cool paper under his fingertips. There were rhythms to numbers, beautiful patterns – even within the starchy constraints of a tax form – that he was aware other people didn’t see. To him they flickered invitingly, tight budded mysteries that with a little pressure from his fingertips, a little effort of mind, blossomed into elegant solutions.
But through all his visits to the cafe, he never noticed the waitress with the warm smile, how she tried to catch his eye, brushed his hand as she served his coffee.
A mystery he would never solve.