As the sounds in this cafe build into a dull roar I wonder about all the people in it. I wonder about a lot of things. This you guys know. I wonder about their stories, their successes, their losses. The noise begins to quiet. I see a guy in orange pants, a purple t-shirt and hot pink shoes and I wonder about him. He turns and I see he’s wearing bright green framed glasses. He is an ordinary looking man. In that, he’s not unattractive, but not someone you would normally notice. But not ugly. Just ordinary.
He is dressed in a way that attracts attention of passersby. They look at him and smile just as I had. And yet, this attire doesn’t seem to be about getting noticed. He speaks quietly. Politely and considerate of other customers. He blends in remarkably well for someone in so many bright colours. His steady movements, filled with assurance but without swagger are intriguing. He is a beautiful swirl of colour that should be confronting but isn’t.
I wonder about that man. Perhaps in his early sixties. I wonder about his accent which I cannot seem to pin down. Sometimes Australian, sometimes a little more proper, perhaps English of some variety. There is a more European feel to it sometimes too. Then I hear a dash of South African in the sharpness of an Af sound. AFFreeca. I think perhaps his grey hair and mixed up accent are just a symptom of a life well travelled and well lived. I smile, happy for him.
His partner arrives. A small, lively woman. Wiry and fit looking. She gives the impression of a coiled spring. She wears hot pink jeans and kisses him firmly on the mouth as they stand in line. Her short white blonde hair is almost the same colour as her t-shirt and most surprisingly the tone of her skin. She makes me think of Snow White. Large dark eyes, ruby lips and the palest of pale skin with a glow of pink in her cheeks. She is Snow White, if Snow White had been blonde and wore hot pink jeans.
She speaks with a more discernible accent. Swedish, as far as my ear can tell. My brain tells me that Snow White was definitely not Swedish, I ask what it would know about it anyway. They wait with each other, comfortably entwined. Normally I would roll my eyes at such a display of togetherness. PDA, ick. But not these colourful strangers. They invite only kind thoughts and feelings. If ever there was reason to believe in aura’s, this is it.
Then abruptly they leave. Taking their coffee and shimmer with them. And the noise swells again. The spell is broken and I am left wondering about them. Wondering where to next for them. Wondering if I’ll see those colourful strangers again. But I doubt it.