mood: frowny music: 'the light' by mirah with the black cat orchestra

standing in line, i take a glimpse around the room. behind the counter a chalkboard happily announces what's brewing:

regular: gold coast
decaf: verona
special: colombian cocaine

my eyes drift downwards to the head of the line. wait, that can't be right. double take.

regular: gold coast
decaf: verona
special: colombian drip

i scratch my head, disconcerted. that's not even close. *sigh*

again, i look to the front of the queue. a soccer mom type reaches into her purse, happily making conversation with the barista. out comes her wallet. unbuttoning the snap closure, her slender fingers reach in and pull out a steel shiv. her eyes wander murderously to the other end of her dialogue. blinking like a mad man, i strain to see more clearly. it's a credit card. mastercard, i think. another sigh passes through my lips as she hands it to the barista.

a few more minutes and i'm out of the line with my cup of joe. sugar. cream. stir. i step outside and have a seat. across the patio stands a dark-haired woman, arranging her things before having a seat. around her lie the victims of various cruelties. their moans don't seem to phase her as she reaches into her pocket. her full length white outfit is speckled amber with dried blood. in her hands is a white handkerchief with an embroidered red cross. she picks up an unmarked brown glass bottle and soaks the cloth. standing above another moaning soldier, she calmly settles it over his nose and the moaning stops. i light up a cigarette and take a drag. she picks up a scalpel. as the smoke diffuses, i can see she has finally taken her seat. her cup is held firmly against thin red lips.

i take a sip of my coffee as well, and when i set my cup down again, i see a slender man bent over a textbook. probably a student at the nearby university. he holds his dark sunglasses by the frame up against his forehead. then placing them back on his nose, he picks up his pen and begins to write. the ink is black, matching his turtleneck, slacks, and beret. after writing for a while, he drops his pen on the paper and picks his bongos up out of his lap. slowly tapping a quiet rhythm, he mouths the words and nods. he is content with his work. the bongos still in playing position, he picks up his white porcelain cup and takes a moderate sip. on the way back down, he takes his eyes off the cup to reach for a cigarette. he has taken the position of his cup for granted; it hits the sides of his drum and careens downwards. the porcelain shatters in fantastic fashion, spreading shards in all directions. everyone turns to see the undergrad bend down and attempt to salvage the pieces. his gold-framed reading glasses drop to the floor, and he swiftly picks them up to try and avoid any more embarrassment.

by this time, i'm on my second cigarette, and i'm running low on coffee. i take my final drags and final sips, and just sit for a while. along comes a leggy blonde with her hipster jeans and barely-tinted sunglasses. her hair flows as she takes each bouncy step. how did she get so good at doing that in heels? she stops a moment to check her phone and flares her hip to one side. her skin shimmers in the sun, which is probably the only reason she's not freezing to death wearing only her unmentionables. she throws a look in my direction, and it cuts straight through me. what a killer stare. continuing her ego-fueled stroll she passes by me and out towards the parking lot. each step seems to present the clear and present danger of 'loose goods'. taunting me with her attitude, she steps off the patio and out of my life forever.

sighing seems my full-time job at this point, as i force another deep breath out as fast as i can. above me, there are birds flying in flocks. they perch on a powerline in direct sight and seem to be conversing. after a few moments, they all take off in unison, coming towards me. for some reason, i am not afraid, though i know i should be. surprisingly, they twirl about in front of me peacefully. equally bamboozled and bedazzled, i don't know what to do, so i just sit there, frozen to the back of my chair. then, they latch onto and begin to lift me. with my feet hovering about six inches above the ground, they carry me towards the lot where i'd parked. the sensation is unimaginable, and is about to get even more amazing as a second flock swarms my pockets for my keys and opens the door for me. gently they place me into the seat and continue to whirl around, fastening my seatbelt, adjusting the mirrors, and putting the key into the slot. then, as quickly as they came, they depart. every last one zooming out the window and flying away in the flocks they came in. one last sigh, and i turn the ignition. the music blares.

---Goei---