Monday, April 7, 2014

The Cafe

I sat down at the table in the back and watched. People filtered in and out and muddled about the café each with their own intentions. They each had their own stories and I tried to guess them one by one. I chuckled to myself as I imagined what each person did for a living and what they liked to eat for breakfast. I was angered a little when I thought of the potentially horrid things they also might have done, but brushed it off quickly concentrating only on the positive and amusing aspects of their made-up stories. I sat there for quite some time until I eventually wondered, what kinds of stories did they have for me? I left the café happy and smiling…

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