Two young boys play games, they run in circles, race and freeze. Rabbits leap over the hedge as shades of illusion extend before us. Ring! Ring! How long have I been asleep? Blur followed by focus … Who is that man in black? Why is my life on replay?
“Am I next?” I thought as I walked by a cemetry in Turkey. They were people like me, I am no god. Will I die? That is out of question. What about my pitiful misdeeds … will I carry their heavy weight on my chest? Will they fit in my grave? In the darkness lays green. Who is that man standing before me? Why do I feel pulled and submissive?
Fear of death is suddenly clear and planted. Stranger, Are you reading my thoughts?! Stop shuffling them on your poker table. I am only grey fading to white. As the healing illness runs through my veins I can hear his only loud thought – “You are next.”
Through all of these tables, I sat on that one. This chair is the oldest, so it is the wisest. Dear chair, I wonder how many stories have you carried? How much have you suffered and endured to get these wounds on that torn skin of yours? I love the wrinkles on your face, it complements your grey hair. Oh here comes the Asian waiter who greets me with a smile that never gets old. Oh, the way that six-fingered virtuoso showers my cake with chocolate exhilarates me.
What I love about cafes is that the people change everyday but it’s almost the same. That leaning tower of Pisa is all over his lady whom he loves deeply and as she sips the goodness of life he recites poetry to the beauty of her eyes. The old man secludes himself in the corner and has a glass of warm milk. The vulgar man who mistreats my friend is always here in different vessels. The boys who come in with rolling eyes examine the place as if it were a crime scene.
What if I opened my third eye? Would I see their real stories? Their secrets perhaps? Is there a murderer? A thief? If only it were true … I bit most of them are calculus teachers. What is that on the front page? A new bomb has exploded on the east side? Rich, please bring me today’s newspaper … Never mind I’ll get it myself. I pulled out the rolled one thirsty for fresh news and before I knew it a gun fell on the ground with a bang that scattered them like cockroaches. My favourite cafe is now closed for investigation.
Everything I ever wanted took a form of a man. A man who struts before me like a breathtaking peacock. His eyes look at me with pity stripping my soul off as if they say: “You can look but you can’t have.”