A Day in One Cafe



He sat there. He was obviously bored to death.  The other four friends were immersed in studying. He kept sipping at his drink even after he finished what was inside. He placed the cup on the table and kept his lips on the straw. Then he rested his left cheek on his palm and looked totally uninterested.  After a second, he checked his nails. His face now fell on both palms. He looked right, left, at the friend who was explaining, at the others who were listening, at the books, around the cafe and back to his own hands. His exquisite long thin fingers were lost as where to rest. Then it was his wrist’s turn. He examined it like he saw it for the first time, and then glanced at his manly arm. He tried to follow whatever his classmates were discussing, especially when they hit the back of his head to bring him back to reality. He smiled. His white front teeth showed. His eyes laughed showing few fine wrinkles. He grinned again trying to appease them. Then they got busy and he crawled back to his shell. And I continued looking at him, amazed at the beauty of one stranger’s boredom.


This song for me would make the perfect background music



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