Coffee Speckles

While on the train I realized after the fact that I must have been bumped, causing splashes of my coffee to speckle the fabric covering the upper arm of a woman.

I searched my pockets for a napkin, that I may offer to help mop it up. I couldn't find one.

I was the only one around her that was clutching a cup. It was me. I knew.

I didn't say anything.

At the next stop, the crowded train caused the departing to brush past her. When I looked next her coat was scrubbed dry. I felt like I was now off the hook.

This may or may not be a revelation of my character.