• a_messy_perfection_ 14w

    "The day wasn't that good though but i guess visiting the cafe would make it better. The bell tinkling like delicate anklets with the swinging door, the wind chimes by the second window to the right, it's perfect as ever!
    'An espresso and one cinnamon roll please'
    That always goes well with Murakami."
    The bell tinkles again and he turns to see who entered. Grace
    "She's here on a weekday? Probably her day off. A little bow, that bright smile and soft tones of greetings, how is she never off her charm. She will surely take the second chair to the right by the wind chimes and flicker it slightly, a kid discovering the new environment? Sweet. It's time for those school kids to pass by. It's strange how you form a connection with someone you never even spoke to, just saw everyday that's it. There's something that connects them, I constantly see those colorful threads between hearts, they are binded isn't it? Her thread is turquoise, serene with a tinge of depth, love with unanswered whys, warmth of deep water with chills of ice. One cafe mocha and a walnut muffin, wait, why was I so sure about this, tee hee. Hair will be a problem. She ties her hair in a messy bun like an artist giving a flawless curve to the beauty she creates. She's creating herself every moment though. When she chose to greet the doorman, when she chose to wave the kids goodbye, when that day she chose to embrace my weakest self, when that day she fell asleep in my lap, when she chose to end the silly fight and sit by the balcony with her warm caramelized coffee treat, when she said I mean the world to her, when she said she will cherish our bond forever, when she made my little bunch of precious moments our eternity, when she braced my arm while walking, when she signed up to be a teammate in my struggles, she was creating Grace. Grace, the twirling ball of soothing sighs, the glorious sunsets and peaceful sunrise, the footprints of giggling spring and cool fall, the glaze of tropical water on corals spread all along. She created herself in to y bits and look, she's creating an art still. She's licking the corner of her mouth again for the last bit of sweetness of the coffee.
    'Sir, your order.'
    The cafe is buzzling, kids and elderly and the young. The second window to the right has the view of school kids, but the elderly couple there just flashed their brightest smiles, no waving hi or goodbye. The kids did though. Guess they saw her too.
    I feel you...