I sat there, coffee held in my hands so tightly I was lucky I hadn’t squashed the cup already. When I tried to lift it to my mouth – when I tried to drink… my hands shook. So I just sat there. In the table. In the corner. In the cafe.
Waiting.
Hoping.
And trying to be brave.
Aca
i stuck out my tongue
and tasted bitterness on your skin,
the kind that isn’t because of
where you work or what you bathe in.
your insidious insides are leaking out
so clean it up; it’s festering.
I’m sitting in a deep velvet covered smoke filled café in Paris, quiet emotional yet light and quirky but sexy jazz music plays in the back ground whilst I write annoying and boring clichés on my type wrier about type writers and cafes.
Lily
They met at the corner cafe, just the way they did every morning. Today was different though. Today would be the last time they would meet.
Help me
I’m trapped between the seats of people’s money where their coffee beats their time and all they eat is cake I glancing and I’m scared through jealously or am I just another face
:D
Cafe: cafe is like coffe but in Spanish I think cause that’s what cafe is spell like in Spanish
Cafe might mean a cafe you know where u get your coffe something like that
Diana
The café at the end of the street always caught my eye when I first moved to California. Everyone there seemed to be having a wonderful time, and it made me happy to think that such a small little shop could bring so much joy to a person in their day to day. The coffee they served was delicious, too, which just made the visit that much better. I will never forget that little café at the end of the street…
Emily
It’s a place were u go to drink coffee or something like that
Aileen
The cafe has a lot of coffee and other good stuff like donuts and pies and milkshakes and other goodies.
ChristianG
I had a drink at the cafe the usual thing I get a hot chocolate
Alexis
I went to the caf’e to get some coffe they ask me if I wanted hot latte Carmel flavored. Bye
Destiny.R
I went to France last year, there were many cafes there, also lots of baguettes
Donovan
There waste a cafe in our hotel in Hawaii and it had no walls only a roof top and it was by the pool :)
Nicole
We went to the cafe station and their was many people waiting inline because the coffe was really good at the cafe station
Jamelin
Café means coffee shop or brown in Spanish or coffee
Marvin
I went to a cafe one day, it was a pleasant trip at first. That was until i saw a man masturbate and ejaculated his semen in his coffee. I was speechless, but even more speechless when no one was phased by it
Lawl
My shoulders folded within themselves, my ballooning ribs, and a sheltered gaze beneath a checked cap as I shambled, barely in one piece, into an up-kept Starbucks, my familiar opposite.
Grace
It was raining, it was pouring—oh wait, that was coffee. Dang it. I thought it was actual rain. I took out my giant black umbrella and ran towards the little broken-down tea shop, jumping over puddles…but as I drew closer, the flashing lights of the sign indicated that this was not what I’d thought. This wasn’t a tea shop, this was the Coffee Cafe. “How creative,” I muttered, smirking. I turned around and began to walk the other way.
Isis
She always wanted a date at a cafe. The atmosphere seemed so romantic. She sighed and looked down at the ants crawling on the sidewalk. “It also wouldn’t be so hot,” she thought as slowly stood back up and made her way to the next corner to beg for money.
The steam rose from the grates below,
Creating a milky froth along the city streets
Of Paris
Ontario.
Men held out their coffee cups to be filled
With goodness and charity of their fellows
But nothing was ever full
And only sadness brimmed.
the cafe is like the tea, but not at all, it stems in something of the like. It’s a tradition, you know. it stands in PAris, and lovers sitting around smoking cigarettes as if forever really does exist. And I suppose, that the taste is bitter, but funnily enough they support the sweetest, most vivid conversations, at one in the morning, or two, or three, I’ll be sipping coffee with you
She was sitting alone, reading a novel. She could not believe she was living her dream. Sitting in this country, in this city, in a little Café, with a bowl of café au lait. She was finally where she was meant to be.
This cafe is full of fun food for eating. We can only imagine what we will have to eat today. What is for dinner, what is for lunch? Oh, so many choices. We will have to chose only one, but we will be back tomorrow.
Zack
I think about the time I went to Starbucks and there was a homeless man sitting outside. He looked at my friend that was following me inside and then he looked at me, he looked back at my friend and said “blessed” repeatedly…I had already gone inside. Later my friend tried to explain to me what happened… and when I looked the man was gone. We couldn’t find him anywhere.
Kimmy
Sitting in my favourite window seat, sipping a warm mug of chamomile tea. It always made me sleepy. A soft drizzle pattered on the sidewalk, and sometimes people scurried by, holding newspapers or their bags above their head. I wondered what else I would do today.
In the small roundabout in a part of the old city, before it was transformed into an electric shriek of neon Korean signs, there was a cafe she would frequent, where the waiters would give her a free cup of coffee and a wink, before she’d go home.
i was in the coffe shop and this elgant woman sat next to me and emptied her soul nto my mind befor i got her name she vanished leaving every inch of her sadness in my mind leaving me to feel her pain
I sat there, coffee held in my hands so tightly I was lucky I hadn’t squashed the cup already. When I tried to lift it to my mouth – when I tried to drink… my hands shook. So I just sat there. In the table. In the corner. In the cafe.
Waiting.
Hoping.
And trying to be brave.
i stuck out my tongue
and tasted bitterness on your skin,
the kind that isn’t because of
where you work or what you bathe in.
your insidious insides are leaking out
so clean it up; it’s festering.
I’m sitting in a deep velvet covered smoke filled café in Paris, quiet emotional yet light and quirky but sexy jazz music plays in the back ground whilst I write annoying and boring clichés on my type wrier about type writers and cafes.
They met at the corner cafe, just the way they did every morning. Today was different though. Today would be the last time they would meet.
Help me
I’m trapped between the seats of people’s money where their coffee beats their time and all they eat is cake I glancing and I’m scared through jealously or am I just another face
Cafe: cafe is like coffe but in Spanish I think cause that’s what cafe is spell like in Spanish
Cafe might mean a cafe you know where u get your coffe something like that
The café at the end of the street always caught my eye when I first moved to California. Everyone there seemed to be having a wonderful time, and it made me happy to think that such a small little shop could bring so much joy to a person in their day to day. The coffee they served was delicious, too, which just made the visit that much better. I will never forget that little café at the end of the street…
It’s a place were u go to drink coffee or something like that
The cafe has a lot of coffee and other good stuff like donuts and pies and milkshakes and other goodies.
I had a drink at the cafe the usual thing I get a hot chocolate
I went to the caf’e to get some coffe they ask me if I wanted hot latte Carmel flavored. Bye
I went to France last year, there were many cafes there, also lots of baguettes
There waste a cafe in our hotel in Hawaii and it had no walls only a roof top and it was by the pool :)
We went to the cafe station and their was many people waiting inline because the coffe was really good at the cafe station
Café means coffee shop or brown in Spanish or coffee
I went to a cafe one day, it was a pleasant trip at first. That was until i saw a man masturbate and ejaculated his semen in his coffee. I was speechless, but even more speechless when no one was phased by it
My shoulders folded within themselves, my ballooning ribs, and a sheltered gaze beneath a checked cap as I shambled, barely in one piece, into an up-kept Starbucks, my familiar opposite.
It was raining, it was pouring—oh wait, that was coffee. Dang it. I thought it was actual rain. I took out my giant black umbrella and ran towards the little broken-down tea shop, jumping over puddles…but as I drew closer, the flashing lights of the sign indicated that this was not what I’d thought. This wasn’t a tea shop, this was the Coffee Cafe. “How creative,” I muttered, smirking. I turned around and began to walk the other way.
She always wanted a date at a cafe. The atmosphere seemed so romantic. She sighed and looked down at the ants crawling on the sidewalk. “It also wouldn’t be so hot,” she thought as slowly stood back up and made her way to the next corner to beg for money.
The steam rose from the grates below,
Creating a milky froth along the city streets
Of Paris
Ontario.
Men held out their coffee cups to be filled
With goodness and charity of their fellows
But nothing was ever full
And only sadness brimmed.
the cafe is like the tea, but not at all, it stems in something of the like. It’s a tradition, you know. it stands in PAris, and lovers sitting around smoking cigarettes as if forever really does exist. And I suppose, that the taste is bitter, but funnily enough they support the sweetest, most vivid conversations, at one in the morning, or two, or three, I’ll be sipping coffee with you
She was sitting alone, reading a novel. She could not believe she was living her dream. Sitting in this country, in this city, in a little Café, with a bowl of café au lait. She was finally where she was meant to be.
This cafe is full of fun food for eating. We can only imagine what we will have to eat today. What is for dinner, what is for lunch? Oh, so many choices. We will have to chose only one, but we will be back tomorrow.
I think about the time I went to Starbucks and there was a homeless man sitting outside. He looked at my friend that was following me inside and then he looked at me, he looked back at my friend and said “blessed” repeatedly…I had already gone inside. Later my friend tried to explain to me what happened… and when I looked the man was gone. We couldn’t find him anywhere.
Sitting in my favourite window seat, sipping a warm mug of chamomile tea. It always made me sleepy. A soft drizzle pattered on the sidewalk, and sometimes people scurried by, holding newspapers or their bags above their head. I wondered what else I would do today.
In the small roundabout in a part of the old city, before it was transformed into an electric shriek of neon Korean signs, there was a cafe she would frequent, where the waiters would give her a free cup of coffee and a wink, before she’d go home.
i was in the coffe shop and this elgant woman sat next to me and emptied her soul nto my mind befor i got her name she vanished leaving every inch of her sadness in my mind leaving me to feel her pain