she looks on ... eyes like a porcelain doll ... the white so perfect ... glossy ... such a gesture captured, she reaches up to shield her pristine gaze from the light that streams beyond the view ... she smiles ... the girl... swatted in oils ... she is like so always ... Everyone who walks by speculates just what she has to smile about ... after all if you hung there, motionless ... watching all the people pass by.. witnessing the conversations reeking through the substance that fills the little store ... (that once may have been air) ... dust and smoke and the pungent scent of treasure hunting... all walls of books ... all the people so unique in their quest to be normal ... speaking, laughing ... day in and out ... would you smile so? One of the old gentlemen, one certain Monsieur Allen Wishenski, walks in ... as if drawn through the door to the beacon of the coffeetable, already set with chess pieces ... their cool marble surface calls to him ... so he sits down ... and the moment grants a pleasant coincidence by bringing another fanatic to the table as well... William ... Willy ... Will ... so many dreams ... so much to do ... but always having the time for a game of chess or a cold beer ... you know what people say about him? ... that he knows how to live ... the chess board is sucking the people out of the street and into the cozy atmosphere of the shop's belly ... there, it seems, they all forget why they were running ... what must be done and how ... the forget or ignore ... either way, they simply take in each breath... and drunk with the very concept ... simply live ... thus you can not ignore but simply admire the power of the place ... maybe that is why the girl in the painting smiles so... now, every once in a while a new face peeks in … full of curiosity ... an air of excitement of finding a refuge from the heat or snow ... and as Allan ... they never really leave again ... each person seems to leave a minute trace behind ... (sometimes not quite minute enough, as the coffeecups from the coffeehouse next door pile, scattered by the chair legs ... filled with cigarette buts and stuff not meant to be defined)... Queen to A4 ... how lovely ... Alice! the white rabbit calls from the back ... the giggles that follow prove once more that "breeding like bunnies" is still not obsolete... then behind the quickly disappearing head of died hair, another person enters ... lets call him Jo ... for he seems to lack a consistent calling ... with him is THAT GIRL !!! the nerve ... after all that has occurred and all that was said ... strange how the unforgivable seems not to matter after the moment steals away into past? ... Jo always had a past but never any real substance to it ... and all know him but not of him … is it not amazing that a person so surrounded by others can still preserve his anonymity ? ... in this computerized age it is quickly becoming a very reserved privilege to exist solly as a number ... He walked in one day and sat down among the fingered volumes ... smiled at the still girl ... nodding to her warm coloured welcome ... he then proceeded to pick up and shuffle through every other volume present at arms reach ... (a well recognized initiation ritual of the addictive membership of the Prospero's Associates as well as not so lucky additions of the addicts there in) ... since then... well ... self-explanatory ... Now the girl is a different story ... seems she has been here as long as the dust on the books and the dirty coffee cups ... but no one knows her ... they all know of her ... of her voice on open mike night ... of her clove smelling dreads ... of her flowered skirts weaving endlessly about the street... we all know even of her taste for certain men ... but why is she with Jo today will not be revealed by any number of inquiring glances from Will ... Willy ... William ... she smiles ... and walks out of the shop ... Check! and Jo, poor Jo ... enticed by her lips is forced to give up the temporary sense of comfort ... if he only resisted! ...if he but smiled at her in return and sat down by the chess board loitered by lost strategies ... if only he did something ... poor sheep Jo ... it looks like he won't earn himself today ... she already has ... Check Mate!!! Allan leaves ... the bus has come. |
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