There was something hypnotically soothing about sitting in the cafe, something that made your problems vaporize like coffee steam.
He stirred his coffee with cream clockwise three times, and then counterclockwise. The smell wafted up to his nose, clearing away the scent of her perfume.
He wasn'(more)t one to get emotional over women, but he had liked this one for once. And today, she had just broken it off for no reason. He had even started looking at rings online in his spare time.
In the background, there was a faint clatter of coffee mugs. The woman in the green apron took orders, and the man in the green apron filled plastic to-go cups methodically. Tired feet from businessmen shuffled to the napkin dispenser and back. Tired mothers dumped sugar into their hyper-caffeinated coffees and sighed their way into green leather chairs. No one talked, but the silence was comfortable. Yes, cafes were the ideal place to forget things.
He stirred his coffee three times again. It was undoubtedly cold by now. He should throw it out and order another. It was more fun stirring the coffee than drinking it, anyways.
A familiar scent of perfume caught his attention, and he looked up to see her slide into the seat opposite him.
Fingers of daylight close
like an empty fist.
The city is darker than black.
The day's almost midnight
and secrets have been passed.
Drunken words for a sober mind.
(more) Drunken mind for a sober world.
Blue notes from a jazz cafe
escape into the streets.
The snow was falling,
melting as it landed on our faces
like a gentle rain.
The words falling from our lips
like broken satellites.
We made fake smoke rings
with our breath and watched them
orbit our heads.
The cold cuts like a slow-drawn dagger
regardless of how many layers
we armored ourselves with.
And the cold.
And the words.
And the merrily music.
And the night.
I sit alone in the cafe down the street. I miss you so much. I wring my wrists as I fight back the tears. I remember sitting in this cafe 40 years ago. I was freshly 25, and you were 27. You came in and wooed me with your(more) words, then bought me dinner and coffee. We laughed until our sides hurt about random nothings, then you drove me home. You kissed my cheek and handed me your telephone number as you opened my front door for me. You were so sweet. We went out almost every weekend for two years until you proposed to me, in the same cafe I'm sitting in now. Our wedding food was catered from here. Oh, the memories I get from this place.. It's been a month since you've passed on out of this world, but the pain is still fresh in my heart. I will meet you again some day.(less)
"No smokin'" I read aloud. I lit up a cigarette anyway - I knew the owner and he can usually let these things slip by. I'm glad he invited me out tonight. 'said there's a new lady with a voice so sweet and mellow that it would "make you(more) melt even in the middle of a snow storm". Haha! I always loved that guy's sense of humor, but I'll be honest though, ever since the last lady left I haven't been here in the longest time.
We had this thing going. Very casual, very nice, it was all good. That was until my smoking had polluted her voice. I usually don't buy that whole "second hand smoking" BS, but she got quite sick after a while - and then she got quite sick of me. I even told her that I'd give up smoking for her, but she said, "that's like if I gave up singing...it's what we do and what gives us character". I couldn't argue with that. I couldn't argue with her. She was the best thing to ever happen in my life and I decided to follow through in her decision and split.
My cigg's starting to burn out so I dispose of it.
"Coffee, sir?" a young waitress asks me.
"Yeah, sure, whatya got?"
"We've just received the finest of Blue Mountain coffee, straight from Jamaica,"
"Ha! That's what they all say. How d'you know if it's even genuine, huh? I'll just take straight up black coffee thanks," I look the waitress in her eyes and give her a smile.
"Hm, right away, sir," she smiles sweetly and promptly leaves.
Oh, the crowd's getting riled up, I better get ready.
With three short steps the woman walks out and meets my gaze...and I couldn't believe it. (less)
The serenity was almost palpable before the explosion ripped through the quiet, corner cafe. For a split second, you could almost feel a shift in the air pressure. Particles in the air that would normally grace a persons skin without even giving the slightest hint of knowledge they existed suddenly pr(more)essed firmly into the skin of each customer.
Then, only a ringing in the ears was heard as the brain took snapshots of tables splitting in two. Cups and glasses shattering, the resulting fractions of their wholes hanging in the air like water droplets erupting upwards from the surface of a serene pond. The plate glass window that presented a quiet, homely storefront splashed inward, as if the waters from a flood had suddenly forced their way inside.
And yet, despite being frozen within a snapshot of carnage and mayhem, you can still feel the warm porcelin resting gently between your lips. You can still taste the hazlenut notes of the coffee you were drinking dance on your tongue. The image of the sandwich you ordered is still on your mind, and the hunger in your belly still reminds you that you made an excellent decision on your meal choice this afternoon. As you are whisked away into the eye of the chaos, your clothing and flesh both torn asunder, you congratulate yourself. The right side of your face is warm from the summer sun, and a child with a balloon waves to a man getting out of a fertilizer truck just outside. He waves back. Goodness, the sun is bright today. You come to the conclusion this is probably your favorite cafe.