Did you see the moon?

Did you see the moon? she asked, pouring more coffee. I did, I said. Beautiful, wasn’t it? Angel, her name tag read. Or Angela. I couldn’t look too long. Morning lit the next door building that once was home. Across the room was the warm-smiled woman who served me – us – years ago, looking just the same. Two lifetimes it’s been, and I look three times older. A plate of eggs arrives, sunny-side up. The way we made them. By the time I’m done our one-time home’s returned to shade, the momentary glow, like the ageless woman’s timeless smile, now gone.