Café

Café

Blue,blue sky

Brown leather sofas, brown on brown wood.

Spring is an open collar, a jacket unzipped.

A man scratches his chin, his eyes blue gimlets.

Hands in pockets, boat shoed and jean legged next to the panini strawberry smoothie filled shelves.

Cups and saucers clash rattle clink bang and tinkle.

A man whistles. Voices murmer talk laugh gently music tinnily hiss of steam.

Espresso. Cappuchino.

Fishbowl-like we sit as the riffraffing baseballcap toting redfaced pimplegooses pass with their fagmouthing chewinglips spitting gum and fuckingoaths and foulsmelling beer burping farts.

We stir the coffeefroth with chocolate hundreds and thousands bitter tasting the morning. 

Opposite she takes the top off her cappuchino with her spoon. Childspooning foamy froth into her mouth followed by a nicotine suck on an ecig her forefinger and third finger daintystretching. Her right hand. Ring flashing hand.

She sits forward sipdrinking in a reversible jacket ( light blue inside dark blue out) on top of a scarletsweatshirt purple with pink and white flowers.

Her hair is elfin, bleached heyblonde lipspink tight eyes heavy black and wrinkled.

She eats her panini filled with bacon and soft egg with tinybites flicking the crumbs from the corner of her mouth with an index finger. Pinkie separate.

Now she goes down on her food instead of bringing the food to her. The vestiges of youth sparkle in the whiteofaneye and the reflection of the light on her small pink and winterpale hands.

She sits on the edge. He relaxes back.
Side onto him she faces him. Tired.