Everyone looked so pretty!
27.7.08
22.7.08
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15.7.08
11.7.08
Theres a tree across from this place I always go. By always I mean twice. The first time I went there, all I got was an artisan caramel. The second time I got a mango smoothie. It was made from concentrate, but still pretty delicious. This place just opened and has little black circular tables with chairs that you would find in a restaurant scene in a high school play. Those black ones with the circular backs that are light enough for the special ed kids to move so they feel like they’re contributing to the show in some way. Two walls are lined with booths that consist of a wooden bench with a cream, cinched fabric back. I think the whole place is supposed to look French. The weird, “country home” metal sun god faces on the north wall kind of throw off the whole Parisian café thing, though. Despite its copious amounts of effort, I kind of like this place. At least its trying. There have never been any other customers here during my visits. Maybe it’s the sun gods that keep them away, maybe it’s the light rock radio station that plays or the five dollar smoothies. Either way, without anyone to watch as I drank my mango smoothie, my eyes stumbled out through the window and across the street. It was then, as I looked out the window past a potted plant that I noticed the tree. A tree that had been cracked. Broken in half. The fragile ankle of mother nature sawed in two, dared to perform an elaborate skate board trick and failed. Whether it was the winds or the lightning of that mid june storm that triple dog dared it, we’ll never know. It was left to moan and wail in pieces, all over the street. Cars slowed down as they drove past, frozen in awe at the sight of this monster lying in shambles across their peaceful drive home. Dog walkers gasped as they pulled their sniffing companions out of the rubble and into the street around the damage. The broken home of a few birds and a few squirrels lay across the street disrupting traffic for days on end. Then one day it was gone. The rubble of the skate board accident disappeared as quickly as it appeared. The only evidence there is of the whole incident is the sad stub of what used to be a huge tree. The legs of a giant forced to remain stationary for the rest of their life. No swaying, no rustling, not even quivering. Just a hollowed out 10 foot stump. Standing with no purpose but to greet the seldom customer at this place I sometimes go. Its probably dead inside, left without any appendages to send oxygen to. Its important veins snapped in half. Or maybe I’m wrong and this sad stump couldn’t be happier to relieve itself of the weight of its top half. It probably feels as light as one of those black café chairs, able to stand up straight and breath right into the ground. No more nonsense. Just open air and no branches. I stare at this lucky stump through the window and all I can think is I wish I had gotten more whipped cream on my five dollar smoothie.
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