Daniel shared a moment with a hummingbird who briefly pondered if, perhaps, on the other side of the glass, he was full of tasty nectar. What a delightful creature, he thought, as he neglected both his breakfast and upcoming date with Trisha. For the better part of half an hour, he let the six slices of sausage and half-eaten bagel with Nutella spread sit untouched while he watched the tiny green bird flit about the garden, hovering to inspect flowers like a king surveying his domain. Not until he thought of relating this experience to Trisha did he realize how irreparably late he would be. She would forgive him. He knew this; however, given her issues with anxiety, how much she felt at unease when left waiting, he felt pangs of guilt. Grabbing his keys, coat, and cell phone, he rushed through the door.
Trisha sat on the park bench, arms crossed, averting her eyes from any passerby, and reassuring herself that in reality they both didn’t care about her sitting there and certainly weren’t judging her for having been stood up. Even after her phone rang with a very apologetic Daniel, she still couldn’t shake the thoughts coalescing around the paranoid delusion that every passerby from the jogger to the dog-walker had formed some opinion about her and only social conventions kept them from stopping to express their scorn at her predicament. Even the pigeon, who had earlier gathered around her and caused her to for a moment forget herself as she searched to see if she had any crackers, had abandoned her.