Leave it here & get carried away

I placed the cardboard cup of coffee on the table and pulled back the chair to sit down and there it was, a jolt of uneasiness. I glanced around the room to locate the source of my discomfort, but nothing stood out. I sat down and turned my attention back to my coffee. As I tore the end off the little white tube of sugar I felt it again, I shrugged it off and continued puring the granules into the brown liquid and stirred.
I stared at my hands wrapped around the cup, my mind drifted as it pondered the day ahead. A chair scrapping across the floor returned my focus to the room. The scrapping chair had been pushed back under the table by a small boy who was walking towards the door with his mother. As I watched them leave my attention was diverted again, this time I noticed him straight away. Was he looking at me or through me? I returned the gaze but his interest on me had apparently gone.
His strange mixed attire amused me. An old style pork-pie hat with the rim turned down was tipped slightly forward, covering his forehead. His greying hair protruding from the back nullified any attempt to look trendy or cool. His pale blue puffer coat engulfed his upper torso. There it was again, just a glance. Was that eye contact? Did I know him? I still wasn’t sure. He was perched on a seat along the back wall, his chubby legs straining against the brown material of his trousers. He wrestled for a moment with the vivid red scarf hanging around his neck, as it clung to his hand whilst turning the page of his newspaper. Another glance in my direction. I was beginning to feel self conscious. Should I respond with a courteous nod?  But he was back tending to the newspaper. The constant head movements had caused the bright yellow rimmed glasses to slide from his nose. In a swift movement, one hand replaced the spectacles, while keeping the newspaper open with the other. His eyes still scanning each page despite the momentary loss of vision. There was fretful air to his behaviour, perturbed I let my own eyes fall back to the cup of coffee in front of me. Content that I had stirred it enough I fitted the plastic lid.
More rapid movement as my spectator stood up, the already folded paper under his arm, the shopping bag retrieved from between his legs and he was heading my way. I felt a fight or flight response, an urge to react fast to this unsettling situation.I rose from my seat, unsure what to do. His eyes seamed focused firmly on me, then averted towards the window behind me. I became suddenly aware of my surroundings, I turned and glanced through the same window. The bus had arrived.

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