The coffee was bitter, pungent, and exactly what he didn’t order.
It was a restaurant built of wood as rotten as its service.
Filled with clients who seemed determined to bewilder and stupefy.
Pointless gloomy rings haloed the splintered table tops illuminating nothing.
Affectionate mosquitoes created an irritating ambience.
He could always be found here by the beach.
Each sip of burnt bean jolted the subconscious.
He needed it to feel something.
Watching the casket lower into the ground was excruciating.
A profound understanding washed over him.
It submerged him completely.
Exiting through his eyes.
An overwhelming understanding that from this moment life was to be tormentingly boring.
Empty, hollow, pathless and desolate landscapes poisoned his mind and he was left wandering aimlessly.
Attempts to remember that playful smile were briefly successful.
“You’re just an analog kind of guy.”
She had teased him on their first date.
Memories only seemed to amplify the pain, but he couldn’t help himself.
“We live in a world where everyone wants to be swept off their feet.”
She eyed him as if that was something profound.
“Everyone else is running around carrying brooms, but not you. You’re a mop.”
“And I like that” Her voice trailed off as she skipped ahead.
She was six feet away from him as he stared down at the fresh soil.
Now silent and still.
Rotund men bumped him back into reality.
A restaurant filled with the ignorant.
Slight nods are the climax of communication.
Solemnly watching them was cruel.
Celebrating life together in simple ways.
“Why me?” he thought.
Draining that last drop of vile liquid.