At the Cafe
At the cafe, I pick a seat in the window. I have to wear my sunglasses. I must look like a rock star who doesn’t want to be recognized. Really I’m just a writer trying to avoid squinting. It’s bright in this spot, but the sun begged me to sit here.
The bells ring from Saints Peter and Paul Church. It’s such a joyful sound. Full of hope. I wonder if they rang for Marilyn the day she married Joe, even if they couldn’t have their ceremony inside.
The man next to me keeps gripping his head as though his work pains him.
The barista ambles toward the door, a pack of cigarettes in her hand. I hear her stop a passing friend to vent about her boyfriend who never has time for her. I resist the urge to poke my head outside to tell her that someone, somewhere, would love to give a smart, pretty girl like her all his time.
Journey plays on the radio and everyone in the cafe starts to sing along. Within seconds, it’s a loud chorus of people who won’t stop believing. Journey’s music holds powerful magic.
Just another typical day in San Francisco.
🙂 Small everyday moments… but something makes you pause and look around, doesn’t it ?
This blog is what made me take a look at your books. I’m gonna read Perfect For You now.