I see the young guy across me
in the cafe,
eyes glued to his laptop’s screen
concentrating
with laser focus,
fingers typing something
super fast.

May be,
he’s writing an urgent email, or
replying to his manager’s email, or
fighting back some troll account, or
typing something very serious.
I get a bit concerned,
and curious.

“Order number 79” they call out,
and I walk past his table
to collect my order,
stealing a glance of his screen,
there’s a hand, a gun, and a crosshair there;
he’s engrossed in a game.
The overthinker is smacked in a headshot.