An old woman

Entered the exclusive

High Street cafe

Hesitantly

 

She wore a simple dress

Had sparkling eyes

Narrow lips

And no makeup

 

Made her way slowly

To an empty table

Sat down gracefully

With beady eyes honed on her

 

The waitress came

Her order to take

Just a glass of water

Politely requested

 

She went away

Returned to

Fulfil the

Old woman's desires

 

Presented her a glittering crystal glass

Filled with ice cold water

Topped with a slice of lemon

On an embroidered doily

 

The old woman

Lifted the glass

Took a little sip

Put it back carefully

 

Repeated the ritual

With metronomical precision

Until the glass

Was empty

 

She licked her moist lips

Wiped them dry

With a serviette

And savoured the moment

 

Then she stood up

Nodded gratefully

Towards the waitress

And left satisfied

 

When complimented on the

Professional service

She'd provided to the old lady

The waitress simply replied

That wasn't any old ordinary customer

She could be my mother