Among The Ones Who Sat
Inside the cafe was a round table that stood like a fractal easel around whose set of un-winged chairs sat what seemed to me a family of six. The one girl is fat, brunette, hands distended and frenetic on the rotund buttons of some digital video game console labelled X O I Q. Beside her is a girl surely no older than 16, wearing aubergine V-shaped blouse with its neckline plunged. The accompanying parents just stared at the girls, blank but didn't seem plaintive, and at intervals shoved pieces of a one-slice cake the six of them had shared until they became sick at being full. The septuagenarian who joined them wasn't on a wheelchair, which implied she should. Another girl family member, reluctant to share her fork, wasn't looking at her.
They were off-beat silent, almost betraying the dense closeness enforced by simply being in this shop. They were terribly mute, so uncommunicative at their display, it surprised me no one else seemed to take notice of such archetype of strange. They were all at some level rigid to look at, immobile in some counts, so unresponsive to the simple leisures of stale coffee, it would not be a stretch to blame this on religion, its roots and rituals that taunt the unbelievers in deep downtown Colon. The landscape is funny, a bit of irony, like a man in a sprawling savanna helpless in its complaint for a lack of solace. This image is petition-worthy, miasmatic at its least literal. Is this wont to the culture of now?
But the oddest slightly odious thing, however, was that try as I might to laugh it out discreetly, it's still as if they knew I knew everyone else knew they knew I wasn't exactly alone in seeing what I shouldn't.
They were off-beat silent, almost betraying the dense closeness enforced by simply being in this shop. They were terribly mute, so uncommunicative at their display, it surprised me no one else seemed to take notice of such archetype of strange. They were all at some level rigid to look at, immobile in some counts, so unresponsive to the simple leisures of stale coffee, it would not be a stretch to blame this on religion, its roots and rituals that taunt the unbelievers in deep downtown Colon. The landscape is funny, a bit of irony, like a man in a sprawling savanna helpless in its complaint for a lack of solace. This image is petition-worthy, miasmatic at its least literal. Is this wont to the culture of now?
But the oddest slightly odious thing, however, was that try as I might to laugh it out discreetly, it's still as if they knew I knew everyone else knew they knew I wasn't exactly alone in seeing what I shouldn't.
Labels: bo's cofee, coffee, coffee shop, strange coffee shops
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