Coffee Shop
by Ajay Nair
It was when the waitress had served his coffee (black, with three spoons of brown sugar) that he felt the overwhelming crush of everything around him closing in. He gathered the various visual stimuli assiduously - the flash of smooth, brown legs of the waitress, sculpted by a demi-god at least; the ivory warmth of the symmetrical collar-bones of the girl in her early twenties waiting for someone (and these bones pushing against her translucent skin were demanding to be stroked by the tips of his fore-fingers); the mature, tired sexual heat of the business-woman (or was she a lawyer?) waiting in in the take-away line presumably for her morning pick-me-up, much like his coffee but without the sugar; even the fresh scoops of beauty of the recently post-pubescent, twin girls walking in hand in hand, in their short skirts and open collared blouses.
He inhaled all these sensory impulses like they were so much illuminated, fluorescent pollen which jostled for space with the strong aroma of coffee in his nostrils. He felt them lodge in the dark corners of his brain, emitting a faint, intermittent signal - for help, for redemption, for consummation. His hand trembled as he gulped his coffee down, his body burdened by the knowledge of impossibility.
He stood up swiftly, gathered his robes around him, picked up the tiny, holy trinket that passed for his succor from the table, dropped loose change next to it, and exited this shop of his imminent, mortal sin.
He inhaled all these sensory impulses like they were so much illuminated, fluorescent pollen which jostled for space with the strong aroma of coffee in his nostrils. He felt them lodge in the dark corners of his brain, emitting a faint, intermittent signal - for help, for redemption, for consummation. His hand trembled as he gulped his coffee down, his body burdened by the knowledge of impossibility.
He stood up swiftly, gathered his robes around him, picked up the tiny, holy trinket that passed for his succor from the table, dropped loose change next to it, and exited this shop of his imminent, mortal sin.
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Author's Note
Observational.
Other stories by Ajay Nair
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Coo, er! Good stuff, Ajay. "Illuminated, fluorescent pollen." Nice. Would you read my stuff about religion? I've been too coy to post anything that real.
very enjoyable - love the last paragraph above all - "the tiny holy trinket that passed for his succor"is wondrous and makes me want to start all over just to get to this point again!
Thanks Louise! Who says religion is real?
Thanks for the read Finnegan, much appreciated.
Talk about sensory stimulation--this has it all. Very nicely done Ajay.
Thanks Susan for the appreciation!
I like the way one sensory impulse triggers so many others, as well as the burden of the body. It captures the struggle between the physical and the spiritual.
"illuminated, fluorescent pollen". So right. Are spiritual beings allergic to desire? Interesting.
Ajay, religion is the realest thing to the person who believes it, wouldn't you say? That's why it's so interesting. An acceptable form of madness, perhaps.
Nice one, Ajay! Coffee, religion... Come to Cyprus...
Kim, thanks for the read and the feedback. Glad that the intention came through.
Carol, I am sure some definitely are! Thanks for the read.
Lou, Ah, of course. Therein lies the problem.
Nora, enough to go around in India!
Ajay, thanks for this delicious coffee break. very tasty in a metaphyiscal way.
(one day we could start a "religion" group, or maybe rather.. a philosophical café.)
Thanks for the read, Dorothee.
A religion group would be interesting only if there are at least a few evangelists present, don't you think? Philosophical cafes are much more inclusive.
Fine piece, Ajay. The whole has a kind of aroma or flavour of good coffee - language, images, words.
Thanks Andrew.
I really like seeing your narrators highly sexualized visual environment through this detailed magnifying glass.
Thanks Lisa, glad you liked it.
I smelled coffee all the way through the piece. All details were well observed, and the way they were internalized help put this reader right there. One of my favorite settings, and so nice to see it well-used.
Thanks Michael. One of my favorite settings too. Glad you liked this.
Great story!
Thanks Gary.
I can smell that coffee and read his thoughts.
Very brave story
Thanks Estelle, much appreciated.
This was a magnificent picture, underlaid with tension, and an ending that feels like ... epiphany.
Thanks James, appreciate the read.
Very strong final paragraph. Such aplomb!