For me.

I sit in the coffee shop waiting for my friend. It is a nice place and I visit it often with my love, although he is not with me now.

She should be here, I think to myself. We said nine.

Looking down at my phone, I notice a flake of skin in my view.

It suddenly commands my full attention.

I brush my hand across my face hoping to dislodge it.

No.

Again.

No.

It pulls at me, and I imagine that people are seeing me look cross eyed at nothing.

Why can’t I just let it go?

Again, I use a finger targeted to the area to grab while trying hard not to look like a pick.

Good grief.

The music hums in the distance. Maybe it’s because I am looking down. Maybe it won’t be in view if I look up?

I look up and around the room. There is a man in the corner, typing into a laptop. His glasses tipped down to the edge of his nose.

A woman comes out of the restroom, and wipes her hands on her dress. I hope it is from the extra water and that she washed her hands, not wiping off that she didn’t.

I look down at my own dress. It is getting wrinkly from sitting here.

The flake of skin teases me more. I brush my nose again, trying not to be obvious that something is bugging me.

Where is my friend? Do I have time to go to the restroom before she gets here?

If I get up, someone will take my spot for sure.

No, I have to wait until she gets here, so I don’t lose this table.

There are three people just standing around in wait.

Where is she?

Shit.

I look down at my phone. Flake.

Flake, flake, flake.

I brush.

Nothing.

Still there.

I fake sneeze into a napkin, so I can do a full sweep of the area.

FINALLY!

Free from the dreaded flake.

My friend walks in.

Everything is right in the Universe again.