Soul cafe — creative writing short story
The chatter of the staff behind the counter, the clatter of the dishes being washed and the dulcet tones of Aretha Franklin singing the blues over the cafe sound system.
Sitting in the window watching the pedestrians passing bye, students in ripped jeans and mini dresses, families navigating pushchairs along the narrow pavement cursing the stream of cars looking for a parking bay. Shouting to their children, “watch where you are going, Timmy keep up.” Their voices fade down the street as an elderly couple take a seat outside the cafe, letting their bags est on a spare chair as they scan the menu. “Do they have pots of tea or is it all mugs these days ?”
Smashed avocado on toast is the lunchtime special, what would Aretha have made of such bohemian extravagance ? “My heart on a plate”, would perhaps have been more appropriate for a soul cafe.
A flurry of foreign language fills the cafe as a group of muslim women enter and scan the cafe. Persians ? Lebanese ? Perhaps students from the university ? Thy see me sitting in the window observing them and leave. Are they afraid of me ? Are they uncomfortable being observed ? Am I offensive to their sensibilities, their religion, their privacy ? Would their reaction had been different if I had been dressed like them, or eating smashed avocados ?
The soundtrack shifts to an up tempo Ella Fitzgerald jazz number and the retired couple shake their heads. Picking up their refreshed bags they make their way up the street passing my friends arriving late, breathless from rushing. Time slows for greetings, hugs and orders of the lunch time special.
Ruth Smart
1 September 2018
Background: I scribbled this story while waiting for my friends in a cafe this afternoon, no jeans or avocados were harmed in writing this story :)
