Early Morn at Visage Cafe


“Two loves I have of comfort and despair.”
-Shakespeare “Sonnet 144”

The cafe was bright; a beacon in the midst of the dim streetlights and shadows that danced silently. The world was at rest and the moon played among the clouds. The stars were sleeping along with the countless population that encompassed half of this world. People silently pass by, unaware of the grandeur that lay before them. Each whisper echoed and they knew they had to limit the intensity of their vocal vibrations. The wind was noticeable though unfelt behind the glass panes of the window. Swaying to the mute ballad of the night ambience, the trees lived to see some excitement after all. The moon looked like a potato wedge and it sealed the scene.

In the cafe, the noise was a constant murmur, an eternal hum against the enclosing walls. Torment in closure, people behind the counter shuffled themselves as if they were cards, constantly on the move, constantly in play. It was the endless game of poker, each bet and each card played a part, and gave the winner the prize. And everybody was a winner here, simply for playing. The time was claimed by the clock, counting its own particular measurements of time, each second differing by a millisecond, even to a deci-second if ever there was such a measurement.

It was 1:04 am.

The cafe was far from lifeless. The endless flow of people served the idea. In a steadfast ritual that consumed roughly eighteen years of human life, or more, the surrounding people studied their topics. Subjects, though, were irrelevant to their acts for even as they learned, they never or at least failed, in the partaking of the application of the senseless unproductive things they just learned. What a shame. Nonetheless, they ate and made merry whilst suffering the consequences of a pre-set life; much like the establishment itself. Serving no particular purpose until used and abused by the selfish members of society; people, and their natural demons.

The table now had its fill of food, and it was to be consumed.

Abused markings of the establishment’s logo filled every packaging, every seat, and every pane of glass distributed for customer use. Ironically though, the logos were simply of no particular use, though if it had a use, it was a useless purpose, un-served by the markings that were made for it. It advertised the world. It was amazing how, at this time, this early morn, the world would unravel itself, slowly, crawling in reverse. How do the flashbacks make sense when inverted, while making different sense when resumed in the regular forward motion? Voices in reverse, musically cursed, the device they used, played the songs of ages; popular songs that they, the people, memorized and learned. The fools, how they relate to such senseless, shallow trash for ears escapes mental comprehension. Though, music victimizes all, not only them. Reverse it and the world makes a different sense, though still comprehendible.

The echo in eternity, this early in the morning seemed to have no end. The adjacent table held fools who laughed. Jesters to depth of thought using laughter to communicate. It was imperfect, and almost impossible to maintain. The consistency of the tone wears itself out easily, though it serves itself again. Reverse the cycle, and despair comes about, wreaking havoc upon the mental states, laughter building constantly one’s self, producing better people than when originally played. It is but the beastly deed of living.

The veneer of life is fragile, and upon destructive contact will the guns rumble an unearthly response.

Stand up.

The people take no notice, as they continue amongst themselves. The late night requires attention as its price to cross, and such shall be given by those who wish to travel through the dangerous sea of shadow and false light. They pay their dues to the physics and bases of life, yet they pay no mind to life itself and how they very openly waste it.

The door is subdued by the push of hand. (No choice but to follow.)

The night airs greeting is vivid and undeterred.

Footsteps. Breath. Laughter. Devoured. Whisper.



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