Of London: Cafe

tumble past the window. A man steps off the night bus with a vintage suitcase and pleated old face. He impatiently flaps a Chinese fan against no heat but exhaust warmed air.

Those behind have what I am having unable to decipher the coffee menu. Mocha, mocha and a folded corner woman studying small books, tables for one and empty cups. A
paused place in metropolis.

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