We see them in café windows. Long lights, warming other rooms in other places, and familiar faces with hands pressed to their cheeks, in contemplation or just about to doze. Coffee, ever permeating, drifts across the air blending its notes to pleasing chords while steamers burble in the froth and grains of sugar trickle across steel.
These other folk, these other spaces, reflected in our own glass, pay us no mind, just as we pay them no mind. An unspoken resolution, to exist in silent harmony while we go about our days and the drizzle greys the outside.
Paddy Dobson
4th January 2021