I am sitting in a cafe around my house. It is a newly built place with cute interior design. The wall is decorated with warm-colored bricks and orange and yellow towels. There is not that many people in this area-the cashier, a man sitting alone, two girls studying, and me. I started to stare at the man. He was sitting where the sunshine comes right in. He had baby-permed hair, not dyed. He was wearing grey knit over a jean shirt and black cotton pants. He was wearing beige socks and addidas sneakers, Holding iced-coffee, probably latte or americano, in one hand, he was carefully looking at his grey laptop. His eyes were serious and shining like the point of a pen. He was looking at the screen like a lion waiting to catch a roe. He so was concentrated that he didn't even move a muscle when the cashier left a small dish of meringue on his table. Several minutes after him staring at the laptop and jotting things down on his note, still having eyes on the screen, suddenly his grey face turned like a child. With a smile on his face, he stretched himself. It seemed like he had finished the work he was doing. Then, at that moment, his eyes got contact with mines. At the exact moment, he dropped his arms and fixed his posture, still having the childish smile on his face.
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