Bookmark #537

The server brings the coffee to my table as I am caught staring outside through the glass door that is not fully fixed in its place. As the door vacillates ever so softly, I hear laughter from the group having a grand time after a party on Sunday, catching up over the little bits and pieces you talk about after a party. The “did you remember” and “were you there” questions seem to flow. Of course, as the door opens and closes, I only hear jumbled events, and I can’t much make the story out, but I am not here for that. I am here to have a quiet moment with the music and the coffee. With the soft touch of the saucer on the marble tabletop, I come back into the golden bakery and thank the mild-mannered acquaintance I see more than most of my friends. And then, it occurs to me that even if the light thud had failed in bringing me back to the moment that I came here for, the significantly strong aroma of the americano at eight in the evening would have grabbed me by the collar and dragged me back inside.

And then, for a good fifty minutes, I sit there by myself. I don’t talk or use my phone or read or fidget. I only sit there, sipping silently, like a meditative as a chant from a wellness retreat. Suddenly, all the turbulence that the weekend fell short of alleviating disappears—at least for the duration of my finishing the cup of coffee. One might suggest it only hid from the yellow glow of the light all over.

As I go through the coffee, sip by sip, all troubles that plague me and drag me down, all concerns from yesterday and all those still waiting for tomorrow seem finite. I believe that is all we need to know—that it is all countable. That is all we need to know at all times. I may have a thousand chains dragging me down, but they are thousand, and I know it. It is always better to know these things. I lose myself in the kick from the coffee as a second wind appears inside my heart. There is still some writing to do, I tell myself, and take a walk home. Perhaps, a return to normalcy is in order.

I reckon I have spent much time on autopilot, as one must do when one has to deal with a barrage of emotions. And now, once again, I allow myself to feel.

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