cup of coffee

You can’t expect somebody to understand your love for hot soups, when toasted loaves are all that they know. Layers of flavours hugged the curves of your spoon, filling up your devoted heart. Glossy eyes stare back at you while you devoured. Breaking the ends of your mind thinking of how to explain, your love for soup - or your love for them. You tugged the ends of your wool sweater sleeves, patiently waiting for. Something, anything.  You’re getting tired. It’s just food, what’s there to dispute, but it’s not just about food. It’s about waiting for them to understand you, keeping yourself naively optimistic about their emotions and you truly do feel like you’re hanging on a fine thread of blind hope.  When desperation creeps in slowly behind you, normal days changed into morning toast meals so you could talk to them more, hold their hand a little longer. Then heavy night comes, you talk to yourself over things you couldn’t talk to them.  You can’t expect somebody to unde...

  He glanced at his watch, the hands ticking by the minute, slowly irking him. The thin scratches on the watch glass screen, the small peelings on the brown leather watch handle never really bothered him, despite his friends aggravating urge to replace a new Patek Phillipe watch for him. He never knew why he was emotionally attached to the old dusty looking watch. The change of jazz music in the small bustling cafe awoken him from his distracted thoughts. Seated facing the window in the right inner corner of the cafe, he adjusted himself comfortably into the black plush cushioned seat while looking at the busy road ahead of him. He have always loved this corner of the cafe, not only due to the isolation from everyone, but also, the silence gave him ample time to focus on his untreated emotions and thoughts deep inside his mind. The laptop screen in front of him was left unattended while he waited for what is to come ahead. He could hear the deafening ticking sounds of his watch, th...