On Mondays and Wednesdays I have an hour
window in my schedule and I have nowhere to go so, I spend this hour in small courtyard café. This café is not very popular so often there are couple of free tables. It is a special place, you will see no one in rush, just people who enjoys their hot drink and silence.
Every time I visit café I see a guy sitting in the corner table. Often, he writes something with passion on big sheets of paper. Sometimes he looks in front of him but he sees nothing because in fact he is very deep in his thoughts. Rarely he is having a break and gives pleasant smiles to visitors.
I like to watch how he works and imagine that he is a young writer that writes in café as did Hemingway. I dream that we know each other or he is secretly in love with me and I pretend that I don’t notice his feelings, because I want save the feeling of mystery between us.
On Mondays and Wednesdays I spend whole hour imagining scenarios of us being happy and then I dive out of my dreams and continue my day.
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