chocolatl
the slight sounds of the cafe surround me. almost serene in its stillness, but the ever so subtle tinkling of silverware against teacups rustle the warmth of this interior. it is dark in here, save for the singular orange lamp that illuminates the wooden establishment. a homely place, as the earthy scent of wooden walls and the bitter aroma of good coffee swirls together, natural aromatherapy on this white christmas night. a light snowfall covers the rest of the city in alabaster. encasing it slowly in a shaded marble sheen, white snow against the black and yellow of lamplights and darkness.
people flow across the streets, carrying bags of gifts and Christmas log cakes. the plastic and paper receptacles stands out starkly against the plain white snowscape, colouring the windows of the cafe in a kaleidoscope of happiness. i smile at how they all seem to have an eagerness in their step and warmth in their hearts, and a slight shock passes through me. their emotions are written so clearly in their eyes and their movements, that even i could feel it. i guess im not as bad as i think i am. that thought comforts me, and i smile.
picking up my slab of metal and glass, its pockmarked surface smudged with a slight oiliness, i click its power button. 11:59. 0 new notifications. the hot chocolate i ordered isn't very hot any more. the chocolate wafer lying in its depths, soggy and untouched. staring out again at the emptying street, i wonder how it feels like to be that couple holding hands, scarfs wrapped around each other, bags on their arms. i wonder how it feels like to not be lonely.
oh wonder. another christmas, another year gone.
the street is empty now. the waiter comes over to take my last order. i simply smile at him and hand him the bill.