For G, from Juan

ᴅɪᴇᴜ ᴇꜱᴘᴇʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Panting. Sweating. Racing.

The sun was scorching down on him. He kept running and running, feeling his throat dried up. Devoid of sound, the big fat container on wheels moved incessantly making itself unreachable to his feet.

One glimpse. One last glimpse of her face, is what he wished for.

Trying to get hold of her life, her heart yearned for his hands. His little finger, which she first met.

Finding his pace on the road surprisingly steady, he sped up. As he got closer to the ambulance, he heard the voice of Alex, his work-help. He turned behind, but found nobody.

"Juan! JUAN!" he heard the voice again. Tripping on the run, he smashed his face to the road, not hurting himself. With a jerk, he opened his eyes partially, allowing the sun rays to drill down to his senses. Alex was standing in front of his bed, annoyed.

"Juan! Wake up!" Alex shrilled, "It isn't that early to rise, isn't it?!". Juan heard the hooting sound of a train, as he released his voluntary muscles from rest. It was the sound of the local passenger train that passed the nearby station in the afternoon.

12:15. Cursing himself, he rose up and swirled a bed-cover over his clavicles. Standing on his room slippers, he walked to the left corner of the huge glass window and pulled the curtain as he walked the length of the room.

"Is there news?" he asked Alex, turning to him, breaking his knuckles and brushing his thin beard on his shirt. Alex said nothing and walked down the stairs to the ground floor. Juan watched him for a moment in disbelief and strolled to the restroom in a hurry.

Within a minute, he bathed and brushed concurrently under the shower, wiped his face with his old T-shirt and crushed his little finger in the process of getting out of the shower. "What the heaven.." he muttered and slipped his T-shirt on his abs.

Picking a cap with a symbol S in italic while inscribed in a circle, from the top of his mini-cupboard, he dusted it and fixed it on his head as he ran towards the staircase. Running down the steps, his screen of display extended to an open space with tables and stools designed out of coconut bark in two rows, fourteen in number.

Alex was on the right side, in a medium-long compartment, juggling between half-empty cans of sugar and cinnamon. As Juan went near Alex, he noticed a man sitting on the last table. "Expected it.." he said to himself in worry and looked at the cup on the compartment still empty.

"Alex! Why haven't you.."

Alex interrupted him by banging an empty glass cylinder with the label 'Coffee' on the compartment. Juan felt screwed. He knew that it was his duty to fill in the groceries when required, but he had missed on it last week because of a college-mate's promotion party.

"What did he order?" Juan asked in a low voice.

Alex turned a small notepad to him on which there was a scribbling in green ink. Juan looked closer to decipher what it spelt.

The Dieu Special.

Juan's forehead muscles tightened as he read the name. Why did he add this one to the menu? I never asked him to! He thought and frowned.

"And now you would say that adding this recipe to the menu is also my fault, right?" Juan scoffed.

"Look, I don't care about that. You announced the recipe two months back, and if you're still trying to perfect it.. you can't expect the shop to wait till then. The business has not picked up yet, and if we don't add something exciting and new to the menu then... the fate of this place is going to be as your well-wishers expected"