Sunday, August 12, 2007

café life

A scorcher today. The kind of day where you stay indoors and praise air conditioning (not me, but I can understand the need today). Café tables stand empty outside. Who wants more pan-fired air on a day that already feels over the top… (Me.)

I walked to the farthest grocery store, remembering decades of walking to grocery stores (before I moved to the States, to Wisconsin) and I taddled between the shade and sunlight, liking one and then the other and wondering why there was no one, no one on the sidewalk, beside me.

Toward the end, I stopped at the café closest to my home (Sundance 608) and I just could not understand why it was the way it was: a line of solo café habitués, doing their own thing, saying nothing, listening to no one.


001 reflections on cafe life, copy


I took my double shot of espresso with a splash of the white stuff and left quickly.

2 comments:

  1. Perhaps the fellow on the left is writing the Great American Novel. One never knows.

    On the other hand it does indeed look like a pretty dull place.

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  2. I had to giggle at dande's comment . . I had a similar thot about that guy . . let's just pretend it is - the next great American novelist.

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