IN THE CAFÉ, NOT MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS

She has been weeping. He is eating a muffin slowly. Her right hand flutters helpless in the air above the table. There is an empty paper bag before him. There is a small brown stain on her blouse. He finishes the muffin and wipes his hands on his thighs. She takes a sip of coffee from her yellow paper cup. He turns to her, opens his mouth to speak. She says, clearly enough for me to hear: No. Never. No.