A noisy table of ten, Table B, adorns a wine-stained cloth and half-empty cups of Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac. An older gentleman raises a brief toast, “We want to congratulate you, Juliette, upon your most successful year and we hope you reap the rewards of your hard-earned labor.” Cheers and laughter echo and the contagious applause extends to surrounding patrons. Yet, I am left perplexed. Where is this “Juliette?” The ten men of Table B appear to be at peace despite her clear absence. Is it possible she has prior commitments? Will she excel in this coming year? Will she choose to indulge in the fruits of her labor? My dancing eyes snag the attention of a customer at Table B and I proceed to re-fill half-full wine glasses. As I slowly pour, I eavesdrop and hear of your remarkable work. They revere you as, “generous Juliette.” With such high praise, I wish I had the pleasure to know you, Juliette. I bet you have many grand feats, plausibly you are a successful businessowner, a surgeon, or an accomplished lawyer from a prestigious law firm. I wonder if I could distill advice from you, Juliette, so that someday I may also be a patron at Table B. After some time, doors close and rowdy Table B shows no signs of eminent departure. Where are you, Juliette? I cannot help but wonder, Juliette, why you would have such sloppy company. Yet, I feel envious. Your absence is appreciable and yet you never stepped foot in the building. I now begin to find your lack of attendance cruel, Juliette. My eagerness festers into bitterness as the weary hands of the clock bend past midnight and mine ache from re-filling your ungrateful guests half-full wine glasses. My fifteen-minute warnings fall on deaf ears, and I blame you, Juliette. I am tired, and I wish to go home. I bet you are home right now on your Noguchi Freeform sofa, yet I am unable to rest on a rickety chair between customers. I am cold, Juliette, and when I leave, the heat in my car will remain off to preserve gas, but why would you care? I bet you are sat infront of your gas fireplace, are you not, Juliette? I feel burning rage, Juliette, and you unapologetically lounge in the middle of it. A barely touched vanilla crème brûlée sits on the table and I mutter under my breath, “Why praise someone who fails to come to their own celebration?” The noise of Table B shifts to palpable silence. The man who proposed the toast soberly stands, “Pardon?” I am startled as I realize my embittered thoughts had somehow slipped past my tongue in an audible manner; therefore, I result to honestly, “I apologize sincerely, sir. Our doors closed two hours ago, and the person you celebrate has yet to arrive.” The palpable silence shifted into outright suffocation. You have suffocated me, Juliette. Without a word, each guest of Table B exits the dining room, taking residual air with them. Do you see what you made me do, Juliette? You have made me look like a fool, I despise you, Juliette. As the last man departs, I see a suede jacket sitting on the back of his chair. I rush to the lobby and anticipate being met with gratitude, perhaps I will amend my mistakes and breathe once more, but false hope is plenty. He yells, “Juliette is with us, now and always. The loss of her knows no bounds of space, time, or money. I pray that she finds it in her heart to forgive your callous speech, as I, for one, will not.” Without a further word, he departs, sealing my asphyxiation. Who you are, Juliette? How did you leave this world, and what have you done to deserve such high praise from Table B and, I, such disdain? What could you have meant to me? Would you forgive me for my presumptuous thoughts? Perhaps we could start over! If you truly are here in all spaces, Juliette, please pay me company, but pay no mind to my previous statements. Please forgive me. Yet, I am met with silence, and my burdens overflow in a glass of shame at an empty dining room table.
Patrick McShea is a chemistry Ph.D. student at the University of California, Irvine studying ongoing chemical reactions with fluorescence lifetime imaging microscopy. He has literary publications in PLEXUS and Inlandia: A Literary Journey as well as scientific contributions in Angew. Chemie and Chem. Euro. J. In his spare time, he enjoys writing thought provoking, abstract poetry, hiking throughout SoCal, and bird watching.