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You are being watched at the bar through an old stained glass window.

It leads right to the seat at the bar where you are taking up your space there, only a few minutes from your place.

With John and Alex on either side of you, all three are smiling. You cheers as you watch the Eagles beat the Commanders, slinging back Corona's together on a Sunday afternoon. Watching women take up space at the bar with their female-ness. You look at them for just a little too long, you always do.

One of the girls has a group of friends who are glancing your way, and giggling. They urge her to give you a look, or a smile. Nudging her with their elbows and glancing back and forth between you, Alex, and John. She is the prettiest one, of course. She has brown eyes, and long copper hair the color of Fall.

"She's cute, the one in the middle." You whisper to John.

Your eyes then flash, only for a second at first, over to that table. You are so visible through the stained glass of the window.

The girl has a sip of her drink and gives you a shy, beautiful smile when she is finally able to catch your eye. You raise your beer and give her a smile back, no longer nervous to show you are looking.

Now your buddies are patting your back, trying to urge you closer to her. Friends are always the best, and worst influences.

You're getting nervous, so you glance out to the stained glass window trying to buy yourself a second to think. You know that you desperately want to say something to her. Her table isn't very far from your place at the bar, after all.

You think about it for a second, and then you do.

You get up from your seat and look away, knowing in your mind that through that old stained glass window you were looking for something. Perhaps looking for a reflection of your wife in the face of the stained glass woman dressed in beautiful, vibrant colors. Or not.

You told her you were on call at the office. On a Sunday.