Bradley's Website

1

The actor sat in the corner. The manner in which he slumped against the window, one shoulder lower than the other, was reminiscent of a coat collar turned upward, hiding him from potential voyeurs along the street. Despite his celebrity and a face familiar enough to cause anyone a double-take, he had managed to carve out a tiny, private space inside the sushi shop to spend time with his daughters. Both had grown immensely since their photos were featured in Hello Magazine! a year ago and, like most children, they kept him honest by never appreciating what he had to say unless it was sincere. It was no coincidence then that he was perfectly present at the dinner table, and they rewarded his attentiveness with a just and requisite measure of affection. When the last of the fish disappeared from the plate, his daughters kissed him on the cheek, held each other’s hands, and floated like balloons towards the door. He stayed a few minutes longer, picking at bits of the leftover rice before laying a couple of neatly folded dollars on the table and slipping quietly out the back. He never looked to see who did or did not notice him.

2

The couple sitting next to the actor did notice him, but were too infatuated with the other to pay him mind. They were a gorgeous couple. The boyfriend’s skin was dark and smooth. He had the kind of smile that lifted his entire face and beneath his daring cheekbones were dimples delightful as a child’s laughter and deep enough for an angel to put their finger in. Still, he grinned meekly at the woman, and she answered his every emanation with her own unique resplendence. Her long, dark hair gathered at her exposed shoulders like mist at the bottom of a waterfall and when she moved the air around her turned to Easter. They talked only a little, yet their eyes spoke and mingled like diamonds in moonlight.

3

Opposite the couple were three women. Each of them had wrinkles around their eyes and mouths, the well-earned graces of decades of laughter. They were colleagues, but talked with a familiarity that is rarely seen outside of lovers or siblings; each was generous with their interruptions, as well as in their willingness to be interrupted, stacking unfinished sentence on top of unfinished sentence and only stopping when it was time for another sip of sake. Every few minutes, like clockwork, their Jenga Tower of half-baked conversations and abandoned rabbit trails would collapse into a roar of mirth and spill across the sushi bar. Unfazed and breathless, they would begin again, continuing their game of conviviality until the night stole over them and the candle learned its patience.

About the Author:

Bradley Andrews is a hopeful rabble-rouser on a mission to inspire the world. Stay in touch with what he’s doing by subscribing to a weekly digest of his activity through micro.blog. This will send you writing, photos, and other curiosities that you are guaranteed to love.