Three Women Walk into a Cafe

They came in together, burst through the door with a blast of cold air. Three, friends, that is what they looked like, together out for coffee and breakfast muffins. There was a young woman with a German accent and a white haired one with a tired look in her eyes. Young and Whitey peeled a plaid scarf off of the third woman who had brown dyed hair, high cheeck bones, large brown eyes, a smile.

“There is a couch over there, we can sit,” Young said. Young and Whitey led the third friend over to the couch, by the hand since she was shaky on her feet and looked lost.

Whitey sat next to Shaky, close, thigh touching thigh, like long time companions would. She clasped a paper cup filled with coffee and warmed her hands. Then she took Shaky’s hands in hers to warm them as well.

“Feels good doesn’t it Irene,” Whitey asked Shaky.

“Yes, feels good,” Shaky said back.

Young brought a mug of hot chocolate over along with a thick slice of freshly made coffee cake. There were three forks.

Whitey fed Shaky small pieces from a fork. One for herself, one for Irene.

“Buttery,” Irene said licking her lips.

Young blew on the skin of hot chocolate and tested it with her tongue. When it was cooled she held the mug to Shaky's lips.

"Very nice," Shaky told Young politely.

They didn’t stay long. Shaky had slippers on and didn't take her long purple down coat off. She had forgotten where she was.

“Is it cold out?” she asked.

“Yes, we had that scarf on you when you came in.” Whitey said.

“Oh,” Irene replied.

“I don’t like it on, though,” Irene frowned.

“We won’t put it on tightly, not too tightly,” Young said. “Up we go,” Young helped Shaky to her feet.

“Wo, Wo,” Irene wobbled but there was a soft blue couch behind her to catch her if she fell But she didn't fall. She held tight to Young's hands and Whitey had her back.

“I don’t know where I am going,” Shaky told Whitey and Young.

“It’s okay,” Young said, “We will follow the leader.”

“Okay,” Shakey said. She was laughing and laughing now. The scarf had fallen off her neck and was hanging down towards the floor.

“What is this? What is this?” she asked when Whitey pulled the scarf up from the floor and wrapped it back around Irene's head.

“I won’t do it too tight,” Whitey told her.