Saturday, June 25, 2022
Scenes From a Coffee Shop Window
Scenes From a Coffee Shop Window
1,565 words
The bell chimed faintly as I entered. I brushed my shoes off on the fancy ‘Welcome’ doormat as I looked around the quaint little coffee shop; every other table occupied whilst the kitchen staff were busy attending to orders. The strong smell of coffee and cake hitting my nostrils. It felt so calm and welcoming.
The café was modest in size; not too cramped but, cosy. I gingerly walked over toward the front counter. A beautiful display of cakes, cupcakes, pastries and pies to choose from. The older lady behind the counter greeted me and handed over a menu, explaining I could sit anywhere I liked as it wasn’t too busy.
I took a seat facing out at the busy high street, watching as the world went by. The small round table was covered in a red and white gingham tablecloth with a small vase of red and white carnation flowers in the centre. It was quite charming really. I pulled out a chair, placed my coat along the backrest and took a seat.
Once I had decided on my order, I turned my head to look outside the front window. I had always found it fascinating to watch people as they walked by, imagining their name and what they did for a living. It was a little game I played in my head, something to pass the time, I guess.
Businessmen and women were walking promptly to work, with a takeout coffee cup in one hand, and a briefcase in the other. Occasionally, one would stop, look down at their (presumably) expensive watch on their wrist to check the time and immediately begin to walk off frantically. The pristine pinstripe suits some could be seen wearing were immaculate; not even bunching at the sides due to the fast-paced movement of their arms and legs.
Mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, grandmothers and grandfathers, all on their way to work and school – the usual morning routine.
I glanced up at the early morning sky. It was beautiful. Early enough for the sun to still rise, beautiful hues of orange and pink adorning the sky. I watched intently as the clouds slowly passed by, one after the other. I felt at peace watching them drift by in their different shapes and sizes almost as though they were dancing as they gracefully floated.
Footsteps approaching my table and a squeaky voice diverted my attention. It was the lady from the counter. She smelt of chocolate chips and cinnamon. I assumed she had been baking early this morning before opening the café. She asked if I was ready to order.
She was small in height, with short grey hair and a big smile. Her uniform was slightly dishevelled with patches of flour and chocolate smeared on the front of her frilly, floral apron. She began chatting away with me and took my order. As she left, I turned my attention back to the bustling high street. I watched on at the array of people walking past.
The waitress approached my table again after a couple of minutes with my coffee. I thanked her as she wished me a pleasant day. I took a sip of my warm beverage before looking back out once more.
I was too busy daydreaming to notice the café was now almost empty, besides myself and an older lady sat in the back corner reading a newspaper.
It was quiet. So quiet in fact that I began to hear the faint sound of raindrops hitting the window panes. It began as a light drizzle, reminding me of the sprinkling sound of a watering can. Then, as I took another sip of my coffee, came the downpour; a shower, a stream, a flurry.
I watched as the crowds outside, almost in unison, reached into their bags to fish out an umbrella. A sea of red, purple, blue and green parasols filled the street. The rain was falling much harder now. What once was a magnificent early morning sky was now a gloomy, ominous atmosphere.
I could tell it had changed the mood and ambience of the high street. Men and women alike were bumping into one another, blinded by the downpour of torrential rain, shouting obscenities or pushing the other out of their way so as not to get completely drenched before they arrive at work. I could hear the splashing of puddles as they carelessly walked through the streams of water running alongside the curb. The squelching sound of soaked feet grew louder as the rain continued to pour.
The bell of the coffee shop door chimed as several people entered, trying to escape the rain. Their coats dripping with water, creating little pools around the front door. In unison, their feet were dragging along the doormat to dry, creating an irritable scratching sound. I diverted my attention back outside to distract myself from the aggravating noise.
Between the rows upon rows of parasols, I noticed a figure. They were stood opposite the coffee shop under a narrow archway, presumably to protect themselves from the rain. They were dressed in a long, dark trench coat, with a hat upon their head and glasses disguising their face. There was something sinister about them that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I turned back to my table to take a sip of my coffee and when I turned back again in their direction, they had gone.
Before long the rain had started to pass. The canopy of umbrellas slowly fell down as the crowds continued on to work. A bright white glow began to emerge from the dark clouds, seeping through the cracks. The sun was rising from behind the dreary black clouds. I felt at ease almost.
I took one last sip of my coffee and reached for my bag to grab my purse. I took out some loose change I had and left it on the table. I stood up, the wooden chair screeching against the hard wood floor as I did so. I turned my head toward the counter and waved towards the older woman who served me to thank her once more. She gently nodded her head in response.
As I grabbed my coat from my seat, I looked out of the window and onto the street. Men and women, boys and girls, all walking in each and every direction to get to where they needed to be. I quickly scoured the crowd and then looked up toward the sky in an attempt to decipher whether or not the rain would return as I exited the café and catch me off guard but, as I studied the scenes before me, there they were again. The sinister character. Only this time, they were closer.
The mysterious personality was now stood in the centre of the street, blocking the path for passers-by, forcing them to move around their tall and slender figure. They slowly cocked their head to the side as they continued to face forward toward me. I felt as though they were studying me, taking in my petite frame. Of course, I couldn’t quite tell if they were looking at me as their eyes were disguised by the dark shades concealing them. I watched on intently.
The figure reached into their right coat pocket with gloved hands and pulled out what appeared to be a scrunched up, torn and very, very worn piece of paper. Slowly unravelling the paper, they took two steps towards the coffee shop.
I quickly put on my coat and picked up my bag, adjusting it to sit on my left shoulder in a rather panicked state. As I looked up and out of the window, the sinister figure was looking me dead in the eye. Their nose pressed up against the glass, sunglasses now out of sight so that I could see their face for the first time. Dark blue orbs with a hint of green and brown were boring into my own. I felt as though we were playing one of those staring contests.
I was too startled by their sudden appearance that I didn’t notice the slip of paper pressed against the glass.
It took me a moment to adjust to the bizarre and rather malefic situation before my eyes wandered down toward the note:
“RUN”.
I glanced back up toward the figure to notice they had yet again vanished, the note now floating effortlessly toward the ground. I took a deep breath and blamed the unusual encounter on my imagination. Turning to face the coffeeshop entrance I stepped forward to reach for the door handle when the bell chimed suddenly. As the door opened, I took in the scene before me.
There in the doorway was the sinister figure, bare hands dripping in blood, a cruel, callous look on their face.
As my breath quickened and I could feel my heart wanting to burst out of my chest, I heard them say: “I thought I told you to run”.
Panic set in and the room began spinning.
All I heard before my vision slowly faded and my legs lost all sensation was the faint chime of the coffee shop bell.
Image credit: @theinterstellarbutterfly on Instagram
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