The cafe was the only place I went for solitude and chess with my friend, Pete. We used to get high and pour our minds into the chessboard pieces, drink red wine, go out and smoke, and then make our way back to the table for more contemplation. And we’d sit in the dark, with just a few candles around us, ignoring the other patrons, drunk and buzzed.
I sat at the cafe sipping my steaming hot coffee contemplating what to say when she would come in. I had been waiting for over a half an hour, granted I had technically come earlier than what we had planned. But I was really starting to get antsy, I really needed to tell her how I feel and maybe this isn’t the best venue to reveal my feelings.
They met in a cafe and ordered the same donut. Chocolate with vanilla sprinkles. And their eyes met and they knew that they would be fat together forever. Also they found out that they both have cats named Felix who are also fat but not from catching mice outside because they are lazy and don’t catch mice outside.
I should have known better. Anytime you’re asked to meet mobsters in a small, smoke-filled Turkish café on the wrong side of town, the deck is already stacked against you.
The coffee in my mug was too hot to drink so I let it cool while I watched you from across the room. You were too engrossed in your newspaper to notice. When my coffee had finally cooled enough to drink, you had gone and so had the novelty.
on the street, with a number in it’s name.
coffee stains in the laminated table-tops
and wicker chairs that look comfortable
and precarious in their weave.
these people all seem much more awake
than me, i fold my newspaper.
You know all those romantic and cheesy movies where the couple meets up at a cafe? I want to do that for you. I want to surprise you in Pittsburgh while you’re in line at Starbucks. Maybe next year? <3
“On a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again.”
I know this does not refer to us. You won’t ask me out. I think we would be great together. If you would just give us a chance. Ask, and I will say yes.
she sat in the corner, one of those hipster types
i walked up with a thermos, whiskey mixed with sprite
her lips looked nice, draped in red paint
i cared too much. she made my head faint
“good to see you again,” she said carefully
“looks like you’re doing well,” she said warily
“been drinking much?” she asked carefully
“no,” i smiled. life was better lived carelessly
Peering over the edge of the cup and saw that the tea was a bright honey color. Tea leaves, they were swirling around and I almost thought I could see my fortune in them. Gulp, gulp, gulp. Honey color runs down me. Slurp, slurp, slurp. Tea leaves fill me with wonder. I write a note on the tea bag so the waiter will find it like a fortune cookie.
come on, little cup, aalign on the shelf with the rest of your brothers and sisters. the plates and silverware are in their spots already. it’s nighttime. i cleaned all the counters, put up all the chairs, and they were so nice as to don’t make screeching noises. the blinds chuckled as i let them down and you, my little friend, need to sleep now as well.
i was sitting in the cafe. like the hipsters normally do. just sipping my coffee and thinking about how things could have gone differently in my life. if i had stayed. if you had come looking for me. if i hadn’t let it all go away
I like to eat at these places. They have good food and it is a safe place where I can think in peace. After those zombies came i still go to these places. Zombies make nice dinners.
The smell of coffee settle in my nostrils, taking in the calm smooth colors of the atmosphere around me. Green lamps cascaded light onto the tables, the counter snaked alone from one side to the corner like a movement of fabric, interconnected. And of course, a beautiful man in front of me made it all the more beautiful, with a smile that shown bright and hair that popped like a jazz tune, with accents in all the right places.
my chiropractor is indian
with a formal english vocabulary under a heavy accent
so he can get away with saying these things
“you have such a lovely young body
that i do not imagine at your age you are single very often for very long
so make sure the next man that you see is spiritual”
i do not visit him often
because he does not keep his voice down
She sat opposite me, in a corner of the cafe. It was a cold Thursday afternoon. It had begun to snow the night before. The room was cozy though. She was reading “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy. Whips of her long auburn hair fell forward and she would tuck them behind her ear every now and then.
She looked so serene and oblivious to her surroundings. Her coffee had turned cold by now. I had already finished mine half an hour ago. Yet I still sat here watching her. She was beautiful, and I felt that I was not worthy of her.
I didn’t want her to know that I liked her, or even know that I existed because I was not worthy of her. I was contented to just see her every day in the cafe, yet a part of me wanted to get to know her.
She looked up, I looked away. It was both wonderful to have her in sight, yet torturous to be so close to someone I wanted to love yet not have the courage to speak.
Coffee. Beautiful, delicious coffee. I had some for the first time today in 30-Days. It was fantastic! I didn’t exactly get the same buzz that I normally do from it, but I did feel a bit more energized, and happier, and oddly more relaxed as the day progressed. I know I’m addicted to it, and it’s sad. Not to caffeine though, just coffee.
I want to pretend that it’s a cafe in Paris, or Tuscany, and the view from the widow is perfection. But I’m in a sleepy small downtown, and we call it a coffee shop, and I’m lucky it’s not an imprint of a national franchise. The view from the window is a parking lot. There are two gas stations across the street and a church next door with a dance studio in the basement.
I think back to the first time I met you. All I really wanted was to ask you out for coffee; I wanted to hear your story and get to know what you were all about. But, I was too scared. I still am. I think any chance of redeeming myself is gone. I’ll never know what we could’ve been. I should’ve asked you out for coffee.
Not many people will understand, but oh well. El café por la mañana abre la puerta a un nuevo dia. Una rutina, mas que matutina, para comenzar una mañana, mas que rutinaria. Sera que se me ha olvidado el azucar? Podria ser que mi dia no vay a a comenzar por culpa del azucar?
The man and woman met in an awkward café, where too much emphasis was put on the second syllable. They sipped at coffee knowing the other person did not like coffee. There was no exchange of words or looks. Just silence and wandering minds.
He entered the cafe, and looked around. She was sitting at the back, her nose buried in a book. He had to call out to her twice to get her attention. “Gimme a Latte!” he growled.
i was sitting in the café, minding my own business, when all of a sudden you walked in and sat across from me. it took me a moment to draw myself out of my book and into the real world, and when I looked up and saw it was you, I almost wished I hadn’t. like a ghost from my past, a face I did not expect to see again in this lifetime, and there you were. green eyes crackling and sparking with life, mischief and… was that a hint of hesitation? now there was something you didn’t see everyday. so many years and miles and tiny towns between our last meeting and this one,
we met in a cafe, one along the banks of a european river ill never remember the name of. we didnt speak at first, i just sat down at your table, asked you to pass the sugar and stole your discarded newspaper. i walked out of the cafe with your coffee breath on my lips.
I enter the small cafe, wondering what I’d get for my fiance, Alfie. We’ve been engaged for three months now and somehow, the wedding keeps on being pushed back. I’m not sure why or who causes these delays but I’m sure there’s a valid reason for every single one of his decisions, right? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep telling myself that.
coffee adrenalin
I’m sucked into your caffeine high
crowed in this empty space of
e l e c t r i c i t y
buzzing and whirling in a mad house
that provided me with this caffeine
and that you so lovingly
own
coffee adrenalin
I’m sucked into your caffeine high
crowed in this empty space of
e l e c t r i c i t y
buzzing and whirling in a mad house
that gave me this caffeine
and that you
so lovingly
own
I sat in the cafe all of the time. I didn’t really like the beverages or food being offered. I had no meetings with friends or family there. I just like to sit there. Observe those around me. I would take snippets of converation I’d overhear, and form elaborate stories based off of them.
The cafe was crowded. It was hard even for them to get a table in a dark quiet corner. But somehow, they managed it. Seth had wanted to leave, scared of the judgemental stares that would surely come their way. But Luke pulled him in anyway; he’d kiss him full on the lips right there.
The people in the cafe had no right to judge.
Grantaire grumbled, shielding his face from the light that suddenly burst past his eyelids. “I’m not violating any laws, I’m –”
“Grantaire, come on, you’ll miss it!”
/”Miss what?”/ He was a little more than half-conscious now and none too pleased about it. “Bloody fuck one minute you’re telling me to ‘sleep off the fumes of the wine’ and the next you’re telling me to –”
“TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN!”
Grantaire blinked, rubbed his face, then forced himself to really look around. The café around him was simultaneously familiar and strange, a place of his daily life newly strewn with streamers and lights and balloons and confetti. He pulled his coat around him and frowned. What was the date again?
“SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! /HAPPY NEW YEAR!”/
the cafe was bustling with all sorts of noise. Plates clattering and people talking. I liked to come here on rainy days and enjoy the food. The chef here made the very best pasta I had ever had. Better even than the food I had in France! The glass was old to so the rain drops rolled over the grooves on the lightly waved panes of glass.
the place I go to visit with friends, conduct business outside of my home office. A place that I enjoy a cup of coffee or iced tea and can kick back and know the internet will be a bit slow. The environment of helping the homeless in the area that I’m sitting in reminds me how lucky I am and what a cool place I’m sitting at as they provide a cup of hot water for tea the same as a paid cup of joe.
The cafe was the only place I went for solitude and chess with my friend, Pete. We used to get high and pour our minds into the chessboard pieces, drink red wine, go out and smoke, and then make our way back to the table for more contemplation. And we’d sit in the dark, with just a few candles around us, ignoring the other patrons, drunk and buzzed.
I sat at the cafe sipping my steaming hot coffee contemplating what to say when she would come in. I had been waiting for over a half an hour, granted I had technically come earlier than what we had planned. But I was really starting to get antsy, I really needed to tell her how I feel and maybe this isn’t the best venue to reveal my feelings.
How is it that you’ve managed to invade
my every being as a human to think.
in the morning I tried to sip my coffee
but only burnt my tongue
at the thought of us in the cafe
and now everything I taste is you
You’ve even token the pleasure of my morning coffee.
How I wish
I’d be the first thing you think of when you wake up
What to order? My favorite question. I ponder it from the moment I get up until I actually order. Ta da! My food is served. God, I love cafes!
They met in a cafe and ordered the same donut. Chocolate with vanilla sprinkles. And their eyes met and they knew that they would be fat together forever. Also they found out that they both have cats named Felix who are also fat but not from catching mice outside because they are lazy and don’t catch mice outside.
I should have known better. Anytime you’re asked to meet mobsters in a small, smoke-filled Turkish café on the wrong side of town, the deck is already stacked against you.
The coffee in my mug was too hot to drink so I let it cool while I watched you from across the room. You were too engrossed in your newspaper to notice. When my coffee had finally cooled enough to drink, you had gone and so had the novelty.
on the street, with a number in it’s name.
coffee stains in the laminated table-tops
and wicker chairs that look comfortable
and precarious in their weave.
these people all seem much more awake
than me, i fold my newspaper.
You know all those romantic and cheesy movies where the couple meets up at a cafe? I want to do that for you. I want to surprise you in Pittsburgh while you’re in line at Starbucks. Maybe next year? <3
“On a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again.”
I know this does not refer to us. You won’t ask me out. I think we would be great together. If you would just give us a chance. Ask, and I will say yes.
she sat in the corner, one of those hipster types
i walked up with a thermos, whiskey mixed with sprite
her lips looked nice, draped in red paint
i cared too much. she made my head faint
“good to see you again,” she said carefully
“looks like you’re doing well,” she said warily
“been drinking much?” she asked carefully
“no,” i smiled. life was better lived carelessly
Peering over the edge of the cup and saw that the tea was a bright honey color. Tea leaves, they were swirling around and I almost thought I could see my fortune in them. Gulp, gulp, gulp. Honey color runs down me. Slurp, slurp, slurp. Tea leaves fill me with wonder. I write a note on the tea bag so the waiter will find it like a fortune cookie.
come on, little cup, aalign on the shelf with the rest of your brothers and sisters. the plates and silverware are in their spots already. it’s nighttime. i cleaned all the counters, put up all the chairs, and they were so nice as to don’t make screeching noises. the blinds chuckled as i let them down and you, my little friend, need to sleep now as well.
i was sitting in the cafe. like the hipsters normally do. just sipping my coffee and thinking about how things could have gone differently in my life. if i had stayed. if you had come looking for me. if i hadn’t let it all go away
I like to eat at these places. They have good food and it is a safe place where I can think in peace. After those zombies came i still go to these places. Zombies make nice dinners.
The smell of coffee settle in my nostrils, taking in the calm smooth colors of the atmosphere around me. Green lamps cascaded light onto the tables, the counter snaked alone from one side to the corner like a movement of fabric, interconnected. And of course, a beautiful man in front of me made it all the more beautiful, with a smile that shown bright and hair that popped like a jazz tune, with accents in all the right places.
my chiropractor is indian
with a formal english vocabulary under a heavy accent
so he can get away with saying these things
“you have such a lovely young body
that i do not imagine at your age you are single very often for very long
so make sure the next man that you see is spiritual”
i do not visit him often
because he does not keep his voice down
Pretty pretentious. I secretly think that the coffee in those little movie cafes in Paris probably taste just as bad as the local Dunkins
Pretty pretentious. I secretly think that the coffee in the little cafes in Paris probably taste just as bad as the local Dunkin
She sat opposite me, in a corner of the cafe. It was a cold Thursday afternoon. It had begun to snow the night before. The room was cozy though. She was reading “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy. Whips of her long auburn hair fell forward and she would tuck them behind her ear every now and then.
She looked so serene and oblivious to her surroundings. Her coffee had turned cold by now. I had already finished mine half an hour ago. Yet I still sat here watching her. She was beautiful, and I felt that I was not worthy of her.
I didn’t want her to know that I liked her, or even know that I existed because I was not worthy of her. I was contented to just see her every day in the cafe, yet a part of me wanted to get to know her.
She looked up, I looked away. It was both wonderful to have her in sight, yet torturous to be so close to someone I wanted to love yet not have the courage to speak.
Uhmmmm I always mispronounce this andddd yeah. Delicious.
They sit in the cafe and sip their coffees. They knew they would have jet-lag, with just landing in Europe.
Coffee. Beautiful, delicious coffee. I had some for the first time today in 30-Days. It was fantastic! I didn’t exactly get the same buzz that I normally do from it, but I did feel a bit more energized, and happier, and oddly more relaxed as the day progressed. I know I’m addicted to it, and it’s sad. Not to caffeine though, just coffee.
I want to pretend that it’s a cafe in Paris, or Tuscany, and the view from the widow is perfection. But I’m in a sleepy small downtown, and we call it a coffee shop, and I’m lucky it’s not an imprint of a national franchise. The view from the window is a parking lot. There are two gas stations across the street and a church next door with a dance studio in the basement.
I think back to the first time I met you. All I really wanted was to ask you out for coffee; I wanted to hear your story and get to know what you were all about. But, I was too scared. I still am. I think any chance of redeeming myself is gone. I’ll never know what we could’ve been. I should’ve asked you out for coffee.
Not many people will understand, but oh well. El café por la mañana abre la puerta a un nuevo dia. Una rutina, mas que matutina, para comenzar una mañana, mas que rutinaria. Sera que se me ha olvidado el azucar? Podria ser que mi dia no vay a a comenzar por culpa del azucar?
The man and woman met in an awkward café, where too much emphasis was put on the second syllable. They sipped at coffee knowing the other person did not like coffee. There was no exchange of words or looks. Just silence and wandering minds.
He entered the cafe, and looked around. She was sitting at the back, her nose buried in a book. He had to call out to her twice to get her attention. “Gimme a Latte!” he growled.
i went to a cafe few blocks away from my place last night and i saw two girls eating ice cream..no fuck was given that day
i was sitting in the café, minding my own business, when all of a sudden you walked in and sat across from me. it took me a moment to draw myself out of my book and into the real world, and when I looked up and saw it was you, I almost wished I hadn’t. like a ghost from my past, a face I did not expect to see again in this lifetime, and there you were. green eyes crackling and sparking with life, mischief and… was that a hint of hesitation? now there was something you didn’t see everyday. so many years and miles and tiny towns between our last meeting and this one,
we met in a cafe, one along the banks of a european river ill never remember the name of. we didnt speak at first, i just sat down at your table, asked you to pass the sugar and stole your discarded newspaper. i walked out of the cafe with your coffee breath on my lips.
I enter the small cafe, wondering what I’d get for my fiance, Alfie. We’ve been engaged for three months now and somehow, the wedding keeps on being pushed back. I’m not sure why or who causes these delays but I’m sure there’s a valid reason for every single one of his decisions, right? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep telling myself that.
coffee adrenalin
I’m sucked into your caffeine high
crowed in this empty space of
e l e c t r i c i t y
buzzing and whirling in a mad house
that provided me with this caffeine
and that you so lovingly
own
coffee adrenalin
I’m sucked into your caffeine high
crowed in this empty space of
e l e c t r i c i t y
buzzing and whirling in a mad house
that gave me this caffeine
and that you
so lovingly
own
I sat in the cafe all of the time. I didn’t really like the beverages or food being offered. I had no meetings with friends or family there. I just like to sit there. Observe those around me. I would take snippets of converation I’d overhear, and form elaborate stories based off of them.
The cafe was crowded. It was hard even for them to get a table in a dark quiet corner. But somehow, they managed it. Seth had wanted to leave, scared of the judgemental stares that would surely come their way. But Luke pulled him in anyway; he’d kiss him full on the lips right there.
The people in the cafe had no right to judge.
“Wake up. Wake up, Grantaire!”
Grantaire grumbled, shielding his face from the light that suddenly burst past his eyelids. “I’m not violating any laws, I’m –”
“Grantaire, come on, you’ll miss it!”
/”Miss what?”/ He was a little more than half-conscious now and none too pleased about it. “Bloody fuck one minute you’re telling me to ‘sleep off the fumes of the wine’ and the next you’re telling me to –”
“TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN!”
Grantaire blinked, rubbed his face, then forced himself to really look around. The café around him was simultaneously familiar and strange, a place of his daily life newly strewn with streamers and lights and balloons and confetti. He pulled his coat around him and frowned. What was the date again?
“SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! /HAPPY NEW YEAR!”/
the cafe was bustling with all sorts of noise. Plates clattering and people talking. I liked to come here on rainy days and enjoy the food. The chef here made the very best pasta I had ever had. Better even than the food I had in France! The glass was old to so the rain drops rolled over the grooves on the lightly waved panes of glass.
the place I go to visit with friends, conduct business outside of my home office. A place that I enjoy a cup of coffee or iced tea and can kick back and know the internet will be a bit slow. The environment of helping the homeless in the area that I’m sitting in reminds me how lucky I am and what a cool place I’m sitting at as they provide a cup of hot water for tea the same as a paid cup of joe.
Did it even pass through your mind
That you had my time?