A window that looks out towards the moving world while the freshly brewed liquid gets sipped past my longing lips. It’s a relief. Relief from the heat from outside that this artificial air cools down.
In the abyss of unknown city dwellers in company and the ones that stare inside, this kid sits next to me writing on paper. I casually take a look. The thinking pen takes breaks to allow him to correct his sentences. A strike here and an addition there. He doesn’t take his eyes off the page. Not even at the cute girl standing outside the window looking at her phone, waiting for someone.
My eyes are lost in the traffic outside. The shaded lanes of Park streets and the moving traffic. The yellow taxis and the careless walks on the pavements. The rush to reach somewhere and the one where there’s no hurry. They all stare right through the glass here. With bags on their shoulders. Heavy, perhaps.
I notice them. They all want to look through. Curious eyes. Just passing across but wanting to know it all. Like they all do. The curiosity pulling them closer to peep through. The outsides they like.
And then they leave.
The boy has stopped writing. There’s another man in between us now. A seat apart. Talking on the phone. The boy and me, both look at the man. He doesn’t care. He’s looking out of the window too. There’s no one outside now.
The afternoon is fading away. Trying to welcome the evening clouds. The traffic has slowed down in anticipation. As they all come out on the one-direction of this road. Few, on the other side too. The ones who dislike rules and probably find the swear words coming out of the moving traffic blissful.
All three of us are silent. All three of us are writing. The boy, the man and this guy you’re reading.
I lower the noise of the brewing and foaming inside and the traffic outside, and listen to the music being played. The background of voices dipped in the conversation doesn’t let me guess the song. It’s nice though. The flow of it. I don’t want to know the song. This is a coffeehouse song. I’ll leave it when I walk out of this door.
I sit there in silence, staring outta this window.