The empty table in front of me spoke a lot that day. As I sat there with my spiral diary, a pen and a cup of coffee in that cafe library millis of faces spoke new stories. Adjusting my reading glasses I looked on. Some told stories of love, others of long lost friends who united back, while still others spoke of the tumult of emotions a family tend to share. Each with a new title, each with a new plot. Every story had its own charm as I observed them minutely.
"Ma'am your coffee"
"Thanks" I smiled as my cup was refilled this time. I took a sip of it as I set my gaze to that teen couple who were busy hitting each other in bliss. I smiled, no they weren't lovers but friends who looked too surreal in their own way.
I scripted a line this time.
"Some coffee flavoured stories smiles in those coffee tables, at the corner of the lane with chocolate chip cookies and sweet pastries. Some fortune cookies too which themselves carry a story within them concealed"
I looked up as I was done when I saw a newly wed couple sit just behind me. I could hear them talk in slight whispers. The girl and the boy belonged to some where close by, and I was sure enough that its a love marriage,
"Are you crazy ? Who said I told that? You just need reasons to talk to her" the girl in her late twenties spoke up
I smiled.
"I told you na , its nothing like that" he justified
I remembered how me and HIM too did it once. It was another story I discovered that day as I started scribbling again,
"Some coffee flavoured stories of you and me hides themselves in those little arguments over a cup of coffee which tend to be the reasons why we end up smiling later"
I saw them behaving well dipped in love as he was feeding her the cookies. Another snapshot was melted to words as I saw them leave.
I was about to leave too when my eyes fell over a girl seated by the bookcase with a thick book in her hand and her nerdy glasses resting over her nose. I stopped again as I found another story in snippet.
"Some coffee flavoured stories lies in between those pages of the books we read too. They speak of a story while we dissolve in the story just like sugar dissolves in those thick waves of the coffee"
I walked out this time. Taking a look at those coffee flavoured stories scribbled in my spiral diary I read them all over once. Millions of stories still exist in between those coffee tables, some stories which I observed today while others still hidden in those cups of coffee.
It was starting to drizzle as I pulled out my hand out. The soft drizzles slowly started to change into harsh drops of rain as I stood there until I was covered up by an umbrella much in the same way like that day...
-To be continued..