The End Page 2   ancestors to possess such noble collarbones. He watches her cognac colored lipstick on her coffee bowl, on her cigarette, on her lips. He longs to taste her cognac lips. He longs to take part in her world, but she is so consumed, so complete. He watches as she places the bookmark back in page one, closes the book and stares at its cover. He watches her sip her coffee one more time and glance at the room. He wonders where she is, when she will return.   She begins to see and hear the people in the cafe, slowly. She becomes aware of their conversations. She notices a man sitting by himself. She wonders if he is looking at her. She licks both her lips, and thinks of the lovers. She does not want to let them go.    He notices she is returning. He looks at her and sees a search. He thinks of approaching her, but fears he will be invading, raping. He knows he is more gentle then that, and chooses to continue his fascination with his eyes from a far. He looks at her long legs under the table, her bony shoulders, her lean arms reaching for the coffee bowl. He looks at her hair, tightly pulled back in a bun. He examines the shape of her skull. So perfect. She must be royal. So complete.    She puts out her cigarette, stands up and walks to the restrooms. She is still in a daze. She does not need to pee. She hopes that by walking she will forget the lovers. She will return to reality.   He notices that as she exits the room into the bathroom, the aura surrounding her entire table vanishes with her. He sits for a moment, noticing this nothingness. He decides he must approach her when she returns. He never wants to experience this nothingness again.   She flushes the lovers down the toilet. She returns to her table. She orders another cafe au lait. With a lot of foam please. I love the foam.   He observes her return. He walks over magnetically, as stars enter a black hole.