"Do you want something else?" She asks. He still doesn't reply. "I'll get you something else." She gets up and goes to the counter and orders him a parfait. While she is there, he sits up with a mischievous smile on his face, and starts to laugh, a deep throaty laugh, as he drinks her tea. I'm laughing too. He puts his head back in his arms when she comes back.
"You did want tea," The most beautiful person in the world smiles. "I brought you a parfait. Do you want this?" Again, he doesn't move. "Do you want to see the fire?" She goes over and lights the gas fire in the back of the cafe. He looks up, attentive. He walks over to look at the fire, murmuring. She keeps talking to him. Slowly, he starts to talk back, mostly nonsense, sometimes laughter. He eats the parfait hungrily. I can't stop watching them. It looks like she is the babysitter, or the caretaker. But she genuinely cares for this boy.
I remember another night, a couple of days ago, when I was headed out dancing around 1am on Capital Hill. It was raining. A middle aged homeless woman was sitting in the dirt crying and a guy my age got off his bike to sit next to her. I couldn't stop staring. Usually in Seattle people shove homeless people out of the way, or else ignore them. But he was crouched in the dirt next to her, talking to her and she was nodding. He helped her to stand up. I couldn't stick around and watch, because I had to go dancing. Something about this scene sticks with me though. I have just come from a party of laughing, smiling, genuinely happy people wearing their finest clothes with their hair and makeup done to perfection. But here, in the mud on a street corner, I just saw the most beautiful person in the world.