Any cafe. Any body. Table for one, but conversation over head. Assumptions, interjections, characters imagined. Time passes.lights blackout. What a staged play. Assume bar bill paid.
I’ve had dates like that. One liners, shoot the breeze. Sometimes wake up next to someone and wonder what happened?
When a third party ends the conversation, it only means it was overly interesting. Funny how it leaves behind nothing but assumptions and not a single answered question x
Any cafe. Any body. Table for one, but conversation over head. Assumptions, interjections, characters imagined. Time passes.lights blackout. What a staged play. Assume bar bill paid.
I’ve had dates like that. One liners, shoot the breeze. Sometimes wake up next to someone and wonder what happened?
Ha! The waking up next to someone and wondering what happened would have done it.
When a third party ends the conversation, it only means it was overly interesting. Funny how it leaves behind nothing but assumptions and not a single answered question x
Life is like that sometimes, innit MoTy? Leaving us with questions and no answers :)
Excellent writing and story. You create realism in an abstract way that is always enjoyable to read.
Thank you, Michael!
This wonderful description of an encounter with a stranger is inspiring. I really like these kinds of encounters, casual ones, but with someone who somehow seems like someone we already know. Once, I wrote a poem about this, after watching two strangers, for weeks, meet without speaking, on the terrace of a café in Portugal: https://rolandoandrade.substack.com/p/familiar-strangers-3af?r=20ov80&utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web
Thank you, Rolando.