Sitting by a big window. It’s so transparent. I can see though it into the world of trees and bushes existing neatly next to the pieces of my face. The tea steams hot with the scent of mint and the comfort I feel from its presence is enough to bring me back to myself.
A couple walks into my coffee house world. They barely say any words to each other. He orders the drinks, she goes to the bathroom, comes out, then he goes. Her phone rings. She picks up and talks. He comes out, gets the coffee’s. She’s still on the phone. He motions to her with his head to leave. She gets up gets her coffee and he opens the door for her and they walk out.
A group walks in all dressed similar. Their leather jackets read, “Bikers for Christ”. What type of drink do the Bikers for Christ like? Do they go for the hard core straight shot of espresso or something more like a vanilla soy mochachino. This must be the happening spot. They take their time and catch up on their day. A very nice bunch.
There are two women sitting to the right of me having a conversation about party line. I’m not sure what a party line is. They don’t look like the party type of girls. They are both dressed very conservative, but then again I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
To the left of me there is an awkward conversation between two people sitting across the table from each other. I think it might be their first time meeting for a date. She laughs with hesitance a bit loud a bit uncomfortable. He sits and his eyes wander to all corners of the cafe. She looks at her phone and to the guys of the Bikers for Christ crew. She references to them several times making the guy even more uncomfortable. He’s wearing a blue metro uniform with his name on it. He must work for the metro. She plays with her hair and talks too loud.
I am sitting alone in a coffee shop in unfamiliar surroundings. I haven’t been alone in a long while. Just me and my head. Something is in the air. I’ve been feeling it for the past few days now. Something is here or near. Things are once again unfolding like a blanket of stars spilling over this world. There are love songs playing in here, and I am sitting alone, drinking tea, just being. I’m sitting alone. This feels really comfortable in some way. I am comfortable in sitting right here, being alone, listening to love songs, to coffee being brewed, to peoples voices appearing and disappearing with the swing of a door.
Everyone’s world colliding temporarily.