AWARDED THIRD PLACE IN THE PHILIP PYKE MEMORIAL PRIZE 2026
Damianna struts past the dramatically posed Aphrodite stone fountain at the plaza’s center. There’s a smiling cupid posed above her, for good measure. Great, she thinks, couldn’t I have chosen a more romantic place? Nothing says let’s start off slow than a love-themed-plaza surrounded by pretty cafes, parks and fairy lights. Ugh.
She was actually named after a Greek legend herself. Damianna’s mother wanted to name her child ‘Damon’ so they could find a true friend like ‘Pythias’ in their life – a regret she held from her own life. When she found out she was having a girl, she decided on the name Damianna.
Damianna had always been persistent in her pursuit of friendship. Like her namesake, she was selfless and loyal but alas, it was to no effect. Disheartened, she directed her attention to another pursuit – a life partner. The advice of one anonymous reddit user had resonated – ‘spend time in places where the type of person you seek is likely to be present’. Last week at a bookstore author visit, a nervous man had asked her on a date, and she hadn’t refused.
Rushing to this date through the outdoor hallways, she reaches a wonky staircase that leads to a warm yellow door. A circular wooden board hangs above it reading ‘Philoi Bookstore and Cafe’.
Damianna exhales, brushes down her linen top and walks in. The staff give her a courtesy glance as she scans the room with people dispersed about. A woman in a blush pink top stands out, she’s sitting absorbed in a book with an untouched table filled with food. Damianna makes her way to a table in the center. From here she has a view of the door, the windows to the right and bookshelves to her left.
At the cashier desk, a bulbous man sits on a creaking three-legged wooden stool. His protruding mustache hair seems to be defying gravity, but only by about forty degrees. Behind him, an old-school TV is mounted on the wall. His neck is craned all the way around to watch reruns of Friends playing on screen. He looks like a rotund national geographic owl perched on a branch with a rotated neck. Damianna chuckles.
Forty minutes in, Damianna’s table has collected empty snack plates, an unread self-help book and a dripping iced-americano.
Did I get stood up? No. He’s probably running late.
Damianna recognizes the Friends episode that’s playing – ‘The One Where They All Turn Thirty’. Not today. She sighs deeply. She had been brooding over her impending thirtieth next week. On screen, Rachel says ‘Which means I need to meet the guy by the time I’m 30’ and the camera pans to her 24-year-old boyfriend playing on a folding scooter.
Twenty minutes and I’m leaving Damianna declares, feeling dismayed.
A teenage couple is giggling by the comics section, an older gentleman by the windows is writing notes from a voluminously floppy paperback and the portly cashier is now standing with his arms akimbo, his mustache defying gravity more resolutely (seventy degrees). His displeasure is directed at the woman in the blush pink top. She’s frantically explaining something to him and the cafe waitress, who’s wearing a sympathetic smile.
Did she finish all those plates herself? Damianna wonders, noticing the woman’s table now has numerous empty plates and cups.
‘It’s an honest accident, I’ll quickly drive home and bring my wallet. I’m so sorry about this.’ she says in one breath.
‘I’ve met you dine and dash types, you pretend it’s an honest mistake to exploit goodwill. How can I trust you?’ the plump cashier accuses.
‘Keep my phone, you have my word! I live nearby.’ she pleads desperately whilst fumbling with her caduceus tote bag.
‘No. I’m calling the police, you explain yourself to them in handcuffs’ he says curtly with a sneer. The woman’s face is flushed with distress. People are quietly glancing and eavesdropping. Damianna sighs and stands as the breath leaves her body, making her way to the tubby cashier.
‘Excuse me, there’s no need for that. I’ll pay for her.’ Damianna offers.
The woman’s face lights up with some relief. The man scowls disapprovingly. His porcupine mustache pulls down further, almost mirroring the shape of his furrowed brows.
‘Oh, there’s no need for that. I can pay.’ the woman says to Damianna.
‘I just told you-’ the man says through gritted teeth.
‘How about this..’ Damianna interjects. ‘You get your wallet and I’ll wait here. If you’re not back in twenty minutes, I’ll pay.’ Damianna asserts.
‘Whatever’ the man spits out. He puffs out a defeated breath and waddles to his desk.
‘Thank you! I’ll be right back!’ the woman says as she hurries out the door.
Damianna goes back to her table and sips on her room-temperature americano. She opens the self-help book but ends up reading the subtitles on the Friends episodes.
By the time Joey joins all the Friends at Rachel’s birthday breakfast and Chandler proclaims ‘Here we are. Just a bunch of 30-year-olds.’, the bookstore’s door swings open loudly and the woman is back. She’s huffing like she ran up the stairs. Damianna smiles.
The woman pays the hefty man at the cashier, who snorts disparagingly but accepts the cash and then she makes her way to Damianna’s table.
‘Thank you for speaking up for me. I was really about to cry, if it wasn’t enough that I got stood up by my friends and then this…thank you.’ she says smiling wryly.
That explains the full table Damianna thinks to herself.
‘It’s no trouble. I was stood up by my date too. Sorry you’ve had a rough day though.’ Damianna says.
The woman extends her arm for a handshake, smiling brightly as she says ‘Don’t be! It just got better. It’s nice to meet you, my name is Pythia.’
‘Oh’ escapes from Damianna’s mouth.
‘I’m Damianna’ Damianna says accepting her handshake.
‘Oh’ Pythia says back.
