I’m sat in a cafe, and it’s narcotic, I’m guessing from the decor that its trying to relive the past.
I’m almost a quarter of the way through my bacon sandwich, it’s nice, but I should have indulged in a full breakfast. You see, the table adjacent to mine did, and now they are gorging themselves on fodder that could have been mine.
And as I paused between the last and next mouthful a wave of nostalgia washed over me.
I have just been to the cobblers to have the heels of my boots fixed, they were in desperate need of work due to the mileage they have recently completed.
I’m know watching tables empty and tables refill, and I’m wondering how many of those who have stuffed their faces, quenched their thirst remember the ‘Good old days?’. . .
I chuckle to myself why do we call them the ‘good old days’ as if time now elapsed was full of life more vigorous more fulfilling than these days we now occupy?.
. . .’very peculiar!’. . .
A lady is rummaging through her historic looking bag, she has a desperate, anxious look upon her weather worn face. Continue reading
The mornings arrived, but I’m not ready!…Its not yet daylight and my room is rather cold.
Lets talk about you for a minute, yes you!
How are you doing? . . . Seriously how are you ‘really’ doing?
I ask because, last night a friend and I began a discussion pertaining reconciliation, about letting those who caused us pain or let us down in the past, back into our lives.
As we talked a few other friends arrived and the conversation became meaty. Veins protruded from tense neck muscles, as past hurts were summoned to mind and distant injustices re-calibrated.
I have just been downing a cup of caffeine, enjoying the rich velvety texture and the nostalgic aroma…
when one of the crisps I was eating found its way into a hole I have in one of my teeth!.
The pain was instant, & the reaction was acute. I grabbed my jaw, and with my tongue removed the offending crisp, smashed it against my back molars and swallowed. . .
It deserved it, causing me pain when I least expected it.
Then again, the crisp wasn’t to know about the hole in my tooth . . .was it!. . .
I’m sat in a cafe, pronounced ‘caf-A’, because it’s not a ‘greasy spoon!’ it’s a posh little gaff, nice seats, expensive scoff.
I’m sat in this posh venue I can tell that it is posh because the leather seats are genuinely made of leather and the cost of my coffee tells me I must be drinking ‘gold leaf!’. . .
I’m not sure how to behave!. . .you see I’m so used to sitting on worn seats and in slightly weathered places. . .
I kind of feel a little. . .’uncomfortable!’. . .
I really want to take off my shoes and kick back. . .
I want to seriously ‘slob out’ on these expensive looking seats, but I’m sure it would be frowned upon, by the immaculately dressed staff! . .
It’s funny how with age we begin to understand ourselves!, what we like, what we don’t!. . .what makes us tick and what gives us the most enjoyment.
I recall the days when any venue would do as long as the drinks were cheap and the music loud!. . .
Now I’m a bit more selective. My ears won’t tolerate loud noise for a length of time. . .I’m fussy who I let sit at my table. . .and I am very selective with whom I talk to. . .
I’m sat here having a coffee & I can hear someone having a right old laugh!.
Its funny the more I can hear them, the more I’m sat here grinning, I have no idea what they are laughing about but for some unknown reason my cheek muscles have stretched my jaw into a beaming smile. . .quite odd!. . .