Home Fiction The Café on the Corner

The Café on the Corner

by Roberta

I love coming to cafés on my own. I like watching people, their intricacies, their stories. It’s all pretty amazing. We reveal so much about ourselves in the tiniest of gestures. A rub of the neck, a worried gaze, a flutter of fingers, a dreamy sigh.

Do you think it’s odd, taking this kind of interest in the people around me? Creepy even? Should I be engrossed in my own things too? But then tell me, how could it be wrong to be mindful of others? To see how we connect or distance ourselves from one another? To study what it is that makes us human?

I find watching the world fascinating. It’s only when I see what’s around me, that I feel I am a part of it. I like believing that everything is a story unfolding to anyone who would care to read. It helps me to just BE , really.

This café on the corner, with its monochrome tiles and a certain sophisticated charm despite the busy shuffle, is like my window. I wonder though, if anyone on the other side sees me too. 

– R  x

You may also like

Leave a Comment

* By using this form you agree with the storage and handling of your data by this website.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept Read More

Privacy & Cookies Policy