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Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/24/2018 5:13 AM

Image
The cafe was nondescript, to say the least - on another day, she might've missed it entirely. Two wide glass windows in a modern style, mismatched against a heavy, rococo-esque wooden door nestled in the alcove between them; a few empty tables and chairs sat askew against the rust-colored stucco walls. The quaint independent bookstore to its left would've drawn her attention far sooner.

But today, Chi needed caffeine. Needed it like the cafe's fading sign needed a fresh coat of paint, needed it like the car parked extending half-way into the driveway next to it needed a parking ticket.

She had just finished teaching a particularly difficult 8AM lab section, some university administrator wanted to talk with her about budget cuts and her teaching stipend, and in an hour, she'd be interviewing with a world-renowned researcher about joining his lab group. A certain psychoactive alkaloid would not fix her problems - but it would go a long way towards making things feel much less grim.
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/24/2018 6:11 AM

Ting-a-ling-a-ling. The door chimed as she pushed it open - faint and almost meaningless, its sound melding entirely into the soft piano background music. More from movement than commotion, a tired-looking girl with paint stains on her shirt - the only other customer in the cafe - looked up briefly at her, then buried her face back into her mug.

Not much of the cafe really resembled - well, a cafe. A few shelves with a frankly dismal assortment of coffee beans and syrups lined one wall; there was a small cache of self-serve cream and sugar in the corner under an abstract watercolor landscape. Comfortable tables and chairs were set up by the windows, in a vague semi-circle around a few music stands, but most of the floor space was devoted to shelf upon shelf of carefully labelled CDs.

Tempting, but she was here for another purpose. That is, if this place actually sold coffee.
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
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Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/27/2018 5:14 AM

It would've been helpful if the purveyors of this cafe had thought to provide a billboard menu of items and prices, or even any kind of menu - were it not for the presence of a cash register at the counter and a small stack of coffee cups, she honestly would've assumed they didn't sell coffee at all.

Image
It would've been helpful, too, if the man tending the counter were actually doing his job and not engrossed in flipping through a loose sheaf of densely printed papers, occasionally pausing to take notes in the margins. The idea of customer service seemed decidedly unfamiliar to him.

Moments passed. Chi stood, awkwardly; when that failed to elicit a reaction, she coughed gently, and when that was met with nothing but the faint scratching of ballpoint pen against printer paper, she tapped on the counter. Being patient was for someone without early-onset caffeine withdrawal symptoms.
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/28/2018 3:45 AM

'Ravel,' the man at the counter said, finally taking note of her. 'Une barque sur l'ocean. A boat on the ocean, in English.' His voice carried a faint lilt to it that suggested an accent, but he switched from language to language as seamlessly as any native speaker.

'...excuse me?' She knew enough of linguistics to follow along when her professors ran out of Greek letters for their proofs and moved onto the Gothic alphabet, but French non sequitur was not her field of expertise, nor an expected result of trying to purchase coffee.

The man blinked. 'The music that's playing - it might come off as unfamiliar, as it's a recording by a friend of mine, and I'm afraid the piano isn't exactly his instrument. Unless that wasn't what you were asking...?'
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/28/2018 4:24 AM

Of course that isn't what I'm asking, Chi thought furiously. Perhaps she had strolled into a music-themed cafe, perhaps her prolonged attempt to find a price list in the cafe might be mistaken for music appreciation, but she certainly had no reason to care what was playing on the speakers, nor what instrument it was played on, nor who had played it. It could've been an operatic rendition of the fundamental theorem of calculus, for all she cared.

People like this were easy to deal with, though - you just had to fake it. 'That's great,' she said, trying to dredge up whatever positive feelings she could bring herself to express; difficult, considering her current mood and imposing to-do list, but the piano was quite good. 'I'm afraid I'm not much of a musician, so I didn't recognize the name at first.' So far, so good. 'Actually, I was wondering - do you sell coffee?'
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/28/2018 5:39 AM

It had taken some effort to not let the even slip into her voice; internally, she congratulated herself. A very minor thing, but today was the kind of day that warranted celebrating minor victories.

Not that it mattered here, really. The man at the counter shrugged, tucking his miscellaneous papers under a bag of coffee grounds, and then gestured at the cash register; he had an almost owlish, almost scholarly demeanor that seemed out-of-place here, and she briefly wondered if she'd managed to mistake a patron for a barista in her sleep deprivation-induced haze. 'What would you like?'
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/28/2018 5:59 AM

'What do you have?' she countered - a reasonable response considering she had tried, and failed, to gather any information on the subject.

'Well,' he responded, and then paused. For a brief, unsettling moment, she thought he might respond with something undrinkable - another musical piece, perhaps, or a CD carefully arranged on a plate. 'Sorry, we recently changed up what we offer, so there's no real menu. Or at least, none of it's final.'

She tried very hard to pretend she cared. It seemed there was a very good reason that despite being located within walking distance of a college campus, a hub of sleep-deprived and caffeine-addicted young adults with spare change, this place was not currently drowning in business. 'And so, what does that mean for me?'
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/28/2018 10:11 PM

The man at the counter hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then said, 'Look, how about you tell me what you want and I'll try my best to make it?' His response did not particularly engender trust in his ability to actually create a cup of coffee, and at this point, Chi was beginning to expect she was going to get a mug of brownish water.

'Just ... something sweet, please,' she said; she hadn't yet given up hope, and she'd spotted a few appliances around the counter that might come in useful. 'The less it tastes like coffee, the better. And if you have any whipped cream, that'd be amazing.'
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/28/2018 10:24 PM

There was probably something to be said for her taste in coffee - honestly, she preferred the taste of tea and shied away from coffee's bitterness, but once she'd gotten into college she'd realized it simply wasn't strong enough for what she needed. Thus, the compromise.

Luckily, the man at the counter seemed to take her request in stride; in fact, he seemed satisfied to have something to do. 'Might take me a bit to put something together,' he said, fiddling with the coffee machine and pulling a few bottles - syrups, she identified with some thought - out of a previously-unseen cabinet. 'That's five dollars, but because of the wait I'll do half price if you tell me a story.'
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
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Re: Miroirs [self]

Postby Adelie » 02/28/2018 10:42 PM

'...a story?' she said, a little incredulous. Honestly, this entire place was starting to sound like some kind of absurdist reality television show - she wanted to check for hidden cameras.

'A story,' the man repeated, completely serious. He'd rinsed out the coffee machine and put on a new pot, which he was watching brew while he reorganized the counter. 'I suppose I collect them, in a sense? And you've clearly never been here before, so I was curious.'

Scratch the part about a reality television show - this was either an elaborate identity theft attempt or the precursor to news articles about 'promising college student's body found in the woods.'
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.

what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.

ezra pound, exile's letter
zoo pen | journal | wishlist
User avatar
Adelie
Ultimate Pet Trainer
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Keystones: 2255
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Joined: 09/04/2007 12:34 AM
Location: a place further than the universe.


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