Cafe Everyday: Day 99
Potato pancakes with apple sauce and sour cream. Coffee. Water.
One interesting thing about sitting in the booth by the window at rush hour is that my view of the outside has a weird stilling effect on the inside. With everyone out there dashing to get to work or wherever they need to be, the activities on the sidewalk appear to be happening very fast, in real time or maybe even in hyper time, whereas for me I am slowed to a crawl. I hang suspended.
People are so angry, so inconsolable with their lives. They dart past, eyes ahead, face pinched, anxious to get somewhere but totally a wreck about everything else regarding where they are at. I see nothing but hardened jaws and squinting eyes. Only motion.
I scribble notes and wonder, if I write faster, will they go faster? And will I go even slower? Is it possible to slow my pen down so much, these rushers will all but stop?
One interesting thing about sitting in the booth by the window at rush hour is that my view of the outside has a weird stilling effect on the inside. With everyone out there dashing to get to work or wherever they need to be, the activities on the sidewalk appear to be happening very fast, in real time or maybe even in hyper time, whereas for me I am slowed to a crawl. I hang suspended.
People are so angry, so inconsolable with their lives. They dart past, eyes ahead, face pinched, anxious to get somewhere but totally a wreck about everything else regarding where they are at. I see nothing but hardened jaws and squinting eyes. Only motion.
I scribble notes and wonder, if I write faster, will they go faster? And will I go even slower? Is it possible to slow my pen down so much, these rushers will all but stop?