This is What My Cafe Would Look Like
“The people that I liked and had not met went to the big cafes because they were lost in them and no one noticed them and they could be alone in them and be together.” — Ernest Hemingway
Ispent most of my night in a strange place — bright white doors gave way to a cafe lined with books, walls adorning local art, and an open courtyard with patrons buried in informal exchanges.
After dinner, I sat writing as a light rain began to fall. Water danced on bright green petals accompanied by the faint dins of forks against porcelain.
A rare moment of clarity washed over me, the same kind ushered in by a lazy Sunday — the only day where the world makes sense.
I paid my bill, opting to walk the long way as a steady drizzle guided me home.
If I ever opened a cafe, I thought, it would be just like this.