So, there I was, nursing a cold coffee in a dead-end cafe, waiting for Carlos to embark on the next chapter of his life. The guy was on a roll, chasing dreams pilgrim.
His backpack, a motley collection of essentials and oddities, was slung over his chair. Dangling from it was a bright yellow Pikachu keychain, a stark contrast to the overall seriousness of the situation.
It was a small detail, but it summed up Carlos perfectly. I could almost see him now, that stupid Pikachu keychain bobbing up and down as he navigated the airport, a beacon of optimism in a world of tired travelers.
The thought of him soaring through the sky, probably with a stupid grin on his face, filled me with a strange mix of envy and admiration.
I took another sip of coffee, letting the bitterness wash over me. It was a small taste of reality in a world full of Carlos’s dreams.
The machine spat out a can of tonic water with a triumphant hiss, as if mocking my poor aim. I glared at the stubborn metal beast, my hand hovering over the selection buttons. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her: a girl, maybe a year or two younger, her face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. She was tapping furiously at her phone, the vending machine her indifferent adversary.
I hesitated. Part of me wanted to laugh, a cruel, self-preserving instinct. The other part, a tiny flicker of something unfamiliar, nudged me forward. Before I could think twice, I was there, hovering over her shoulder.
“You need to press the buttons on the machine, not your phone,” I said, my voice coming out drier than expected.
She looked up, startled, her eyes wide with a mix of gratitude and something else I couldn’t quite place. I pointed at the buttons, my finger hovering awkwardly. She nodded, her cheeks coloring deeper.
With a clumsy efficiency, I guided her through the process, selecting her ice cream, inserting the money. When the machine finally dispensed the sweet reward, she smiled, a shy, grateful smile.
As she turned to leave, I felt a pang of regret. My rescue had been more of a condescending lecture than a friendly assist. I should have offered to buy her the ice cream. Instead, I’d been a know-it-all, a stranger imposing his help on someone clearly struggling to navigate a simple task.
I watched her walk away, a small figure disappearing into the crowd.