Observing the Coffee Shop People... And a Little Love and Passion - Entry 4

 Image courtesy of Sura Nualpradid /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This started as a writing exercise as I sat at the coffee shop observing people for character development.

Reading over it one day I  decided to write a short story based on the characters.  I kept it in the form of a journal.

January 10….

Starting again.  Trying to get the creative feelings going for the New Year.  Writing every day…haha…a joke I think.  Am I looking for something or not? 

Seems to be baby day at the café.  A couple with a grandbaby, they are much older people than me.  There are also two men with two children.  A cute little toddler girl and an infant in the seat still with a snowsuit on, I can’t tell if the infant is a boy or girl.  I think they are a gay couple, just seem like they are partners and not baby sitting for their wives.  They are in early 40’s, African- American.   The one man knows how to take care of the children very well; the other man was looking at cookbooks.  The kids are so cute, they seem happy, the whole family seems happy.  The little girl is waving at me. I don’t think she knows I’m white or that I’m fifty-six or that I still have such lustful sensual thoughts and feelings, at my age.  No one knows that, shouldn’t that be gone when silver moves into the hair and retirement come?  Maybe I’m odd.  I wave back at the little girl.

Look at them, such a happy family the kids are so cute you can see they are so loved.  Some would criticize this family consisting of two dads thinking it so awful for the kids.  I don’t know, isn’t love just love.  Those kids could have “mommy & daddy” and just exist with no love, only hate, misery and abuse given to them.  And the two men, they seem so content with each other.  A partner to go through life with to share the pain and the love, having someone to share life with sounds so ideal.   Make note:  need a life partner.

I am drinking a Chi Tea Latté; the old man at the counter does not know how to make it very well.  Aretha Franklin is not here, wasn’t here before Christmas either. I wonder if she was the one who fell. I heard that someone fell.  I hope not. I miss Aretha, she likes my hair, and I need people to remind me I still am good.

The Grandma must be a great-grandma.  She is having fun with the baby.  She has no worries, raised her kids now she is having a great time with the baby. Two different generations, two that can get along and are sometimes forgotten and they both can learn so much from each other.  Society needs to respect elderly people they have much love to give to children. Will I ever be a grandma?  I’m old enough, oh but my mind is twenty-six and I still have lustful sensual thoughts and feelings. Grandmas can’t have those. Can they?  ....

© Copyright 2014   Eileen A Partak