Cup
You turn into Stepańska street.
I sit down.
Still a little hungover I am sitting in my favorite cafe, surrounded by wooden walls covered in old movie posters. I breathe in the coffee-filled air and immediately begin to cough. My body isn’t ready yet.
You stop at the old Antikvariat and look at the newest old books.
I order an espresso.
The last week has passed by very fast and it seemed to have no significant events to make it memorable. I wonder how many of those weeks have already passed. How many of these weeks I am unable to reminisce about are still to come?
You continue walking up the road.
I get my espresso.
It’s Sunday and once again the streets seem empty. Well, despite the people heading for brunch or breakfast or lunch or just to have a walk. I seem like one of them, I don’t like it. Weekdays I can sit around and feel good about doing nothing while others are working. But if nobody is working, what’s my role in this whole thing?
You pass the window of the cafe.
I look outside.
You are terrifying. My stomach hurts a little while I try to understand what just happened. A little Film sequence was running in my head. Oh how much we could experience. How much we could grow together, see things from a different perspective. How compassion grows and creates the bubble around us. I won’t ever feel cold again.
You passed by.
I am looking after you, disappearing.
I now bow my head. I didn’t expect this to be the memorable moment of this week for me to remember. I taste the espresso, it’s bittersweet. I put down the cup. It is beautiful. Deep blue with golden edges. Never before have I seen such a composition between the deep colours of coffee and blue.
You turn around the corner.
I drink the rest and pay.
I’ll be back again, for you, my shining deep, my espresso cup.