Cafés #2


Push open the door. Here you are. Close your eyes. What seizes you first? The sound of steam, or the clatter of the percolator? The smell of hot, ground beans dripping into a cup across the counter? Or the rustle of conversation or the muted music that makes you smile? Because if the café is well-chosen, you’ll be thinking “that could be one of my Spotify’s playlists”.

Just like at home.

Depending on your mood and the weather– and not available seating, of course -, you’ll choose the table at the back, the one with the booth, slightly set back, or the one with the tablet along the window, to be in touch with the outside world. Rarely the middle one, as it lacks discretion, but it has its charm too.

It’s made of marble, or wood. There is a bud vase on top. Or a china sugar-pot. Or nothing. Just your glasses and your phone. A glass of water. You haven’t had your coffee yet, but the moment has begun. You listen to the conversations, catching some snatches of words on the fly, and those neighbors laughing too loudly, and those two women hugging, happy to see each other again, their wake a powdery perfume, heady but pleasant. At your back, pages of a newspaper are turned and crumpled.

You look, you sniff, you hear, you are right there, in the very core of life, at its most banal and most real, and then suddenly, in front of you, your cup has just been set down.

Café Chez Ginette, Paris
Pots de confiture et marmelade au Tomboy Café, Wellington, Nouvelle-Zélande
Intérieur du café Havana Coffee Works avec lustre et bar en acajou à Wellington, Nouvelle-Zélande
Intérieur du café Squirrel, Wellington, NZ
Intérieur du café Tomboy à Wellington, Nouvelle-Zélande
Customs Brews - Wellington, Nouvelle-Zélande


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