A Sunny Saturday Morning

I imagined myself sitting in my favourite cafe in my favourite spot sipping on an ice cold Americano. I imagined the cafe as I like it best early on a sunny Saturday morning, almost empty, and that was all I needed to roll out of bed and get to Third Wave Coffee.

There's an air curtain above the door, and it makes a whooshing sound every time the door opens, announcing the arrival of possibly another coffee enthusiast. Occasionally, I look up to see who it is, and most of the times it's a delivery agent here to pick up an order for someone who couldn't be bothered to come sit in the cafe and sip on their coffee. I can understand that. I have been there. Some days I would rather power up with my coffee at home, but that is a thing of the past. I no longer order food at home unless absolutely unavoidable, which is very rare. You see, I want the whole experience, unencumbered by convenience, and yes that will require some effort, but most things worth experiencing require some degree of effort.

The aroma in the air is captivating. There is the distinct scent of roasted coffee in every whiff, but it grows weaker as my nostrils get used to it. I can feel the cool air on my skin and compared to the humid warm air outside, I am happy to be inside in the cooler drier environment. Until October arrives, I am happy to witness sunlight from inside an air conditioned room. I sit close to the glass wall separating the indoors from the outdoors. It's the right balance between the natural light outside and the cool temperature inside. If I had to sit deeper inside the cafe, away from the outdoors, immersed in artificial light, I wouldn't enjoy it as much. I have such a strong position on the seating, and I suspect it is because we're currently exiting the monsoon season, and the last couple of months have been rather gloomy. The sun has been rather elusive. My body, deprived of sunlight, wants to get as close as possible, without experiencing the hot and sweaty side effects it is usually accompanied with.

The cafe is decorated with a lot of wooden panelling. The chairs are upholstered with an earthy turquoise. The table tops are white granite, with a mix of grey swirls and veins running across, giving it contrast and an overall textured appearance. The floor is tiled, and the tiles alternate between two shades of grey. The lights are warm, bright and right above my head.

On my table, in my favourite cafe, in my favourite spot, lies a notebook flat open on the surface, with a fountain pen right in the middle, waiting to be picked up and flourished across the off white pages. My coffee beckons for a sip and my notebook longs for a scribble, just like a lover longs for a kiss after a long absence. I breathe in the cool air, unable to discern the scent of coffee anymore, exhale with a deep sigh, and begin to write.