David wasn't going to publish this but I like it so much, I am going to do this anyways.
Much Love, Lisa
Our feet ache and our eyes grow heavy as our luggage releases its grip from our backs. We sit in a second story coffee shop looking through the window waiting for time to pass. I see a clock whose red numbers read 20:41. Opposite our coffee shop a storm of people rush from outside through a single open door. The other three sets of doors stand shut, but willing to open at the slightest nudge. The heard of people don’t see the closed doors as an option. I watch as anger and impatience engross their faces. The cold air makes their pulsing breaths appear as a steam train gaining momentum. Above the crowd is a 60 foot yellow poster adorned with black and red letters informing us of our civic duties to invest in the local economy. The informative posters are mimicked by three slightly smaller copies hanging throughout the train station. Not to be outdone, a 40 foot television screen separates the posters. It is broadcasting the opposing company’s products.
As I look down, a second wave of dense population begins their procession into the building. They are lining up and steaming in through the single set of doors just as before. In our coffee shop my senses are bombarded with my adjacent surroundings. The smell of garlic and decaying vegetables is only lightly masked with the aroma of black coffee. The voices are foreign and speaking a language that my mind cannot decipher. Either this language is too complex and unique that it escapes my understanding or it is an ancient language and too distant from my own to allow me to relate the two. For now, the clicks and groans sound as if a group of squirrels are reviewing their daily regimen.
The room is only slightly heated compared to the near zero temperatures of the hallway. It allows for the removal of gloves, but that is as far as we are willing to compromise. Our jackets and hats stay firmly attached to our bodies. The only reminder of home is a faint sound of english music playing in the coffee shop. The song and artist is unknown but is reminiscent of bad 90s pop. I can’t help but imagine a smoky stage with a lonely, big-haired woman belting out her obtrusive love ballad. The words and imagery are easily ignored as I look back towards the window. I stare at the clock without reading the time.
I feel as though ten minutes pass before I decide to scan the room for some sense of entertainment. My eyes are growing even heavier as every person appears to be a clone of the last, all identical in shape, features, and expressions. The room spins in my head as I turn back around to see the clones have taken over the coffee shop. I shake the visions free and slowly began to notice the tiny flaws in the carbon copies. She has a wide nose. His hair has been tinted a dark brown. I go on bringing each character to life in the coffee shop until I notice a very small man sitting at a table alone. I can’t help but release a horribly inappropriate laugh. My wife looks forward and mumbles the first word either of us had said since arriving, “What?”
“Either I am REALLY tired or I just saw a midget.” I say.
She joins me with another inappropriate laugh followed by a light hearted scolding, “You are terrible.”
We both release a deep sigh as I look back out the window to the red clock. “20:42” It is going to be a long night.
