Earl Grey

A man sits almost alone in a cafe smoking a cigarette which brings up some more or less purposefully forgotten memories.

I put the cigarette to my trembling lips. I begin to search through my jacket for the matches I seem to have misplaced. I reach into my pocket and feel cold air. I look down only to see my slightly purple fingers nails veering through the hole which has formed in my pocket. The matches must have fallen out.

"Here." says a woman who seems to be passing by. She stands above me, offering me a lighter. I take it without a second thought, though I wonder why a woman dressed in all black would carry a pink lighter. I spin the ridged metal once, then twice before a minute flame escapes and illuminates my cupped hand. I light the cigarette and nod, returning the lighter to the woman who nods back and continues on, settling her bag a few tables down from mine. I watch her as she sits down and removes a pack of Marlboro's.

There are now three of us in the cafe, including the bartender who sits on his stool behind the bar reading today's issue. Around us the room is tightly packed with dusty round tables, as if it's expected to be a full house. The gray walls circle the whole room and only stop when they make contact with the mahogany wood floors, excluding, of course, the door which marks the entrance to this prestigious cafe. Dramatic melodies of Beethoven's, maybe Mozart's, hum in the background as if we were in an Opera house, minus the theatrics.

I turn my attention back to my cigarette whose smoke twists and turns up into the air above me, forming a cloud of which begins to run track around my cranium. The earl grey I had ordered rests on the table at which I sit. It emits steam which begins to mix with the smoke, enlarging the cloud. I take another drag and breath in the damp air around me.

I watch the smoke float about, spiral and disperse. Gray becomes the only thing I see as the walls around me fade. In front of my eyes the smoke begins to take shape. The silhouette of my mothers face begins to form, the soft lines of her square jaw are clear. The steam forms tears which begin to roll down her cheeks. The smoke continues to drift from the lit part of the cigarette and it forms a casket next to which stands a child. My fathers casket. 

The smoke begins to circle as I blow poison from my lips and I see a wedding band. And then my mother again, this time on her knees. Her dress looks worn and she's holding someone in her arms, she is shielding me. The smoke creates the outline of a man. His shoulders are wide, his stance is steady and his hand is raised while in the other he holds a bottle.

I take another drag and I hear the woman a few tables down ask the bartender for vodka.

And then I see a young man, his eyes droop and I can almost smell the scent of alcohol which escapes from his lips. The smoke reformulates and this time my whole body is visible. My clothes are torn and I look battered. And then the smoke rises towards the ceiling and for a second nothing appears. But with another exhale smoke begins to circle in the air again and a woman appears, but this time it isn't my mother. The petite woman is in a dress, and wears a grin which stretches from ear to ear. Her curly hair reaches down to her shoulders and she radiates happiness though she is nothing but carbon dioxide and nicotine. Suddenly the smoke reshapes and forms a car. The wisps begin to circle fast as the cars wheels travel and then... poof. The car disappears and in it's place remains another casket. This time that young man stands beside it.

I take another drag and I feel the heat of the embers burn my lips. I exhale for the last time and watch the smoke draw lines and create walls. A room. A couch and table sit in the center. Clothes and random items are strewn across the floor and what seems to be empty bottles line the flat surface of the table. The window on the far wall starts to widen as if someone were opening the shades and releasing light into the room. 

The cafe comes back into view as the smoke fades before me. I press the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray, turning it off.

Author's Note

Enjoooooy :D

Reviews

[Richard Guimond]

I use to work downtown sit in café , i use to smoke let the smoke dreams out, i used to watch women with long legs and painted smiles i used to do those things ...but not anymore ...but i still drink Earl Grey

I really enjoy your writing brought me back to a place Called Café de Paris oh thirty years ago....

Café are made for writers .... and you really capture the soul of the place and make us live the experience with you bravo !

[Mirjana Ilic]

Thank you very much :)

[Marcel Grant]

This. Was. Fantastic.

God, as ALWAYS you have major skill for detail. I'm so jealous, I really wish I could write that way. The entire bar, the way the cigarette was lit up, the purple finger nails... EVERYTHING.

I had no idea what I was going into with this. I thought it might be another tale of two people revealing their pasts, the moment the other woman came into the story. I was half right, but the way you executed it threw me off balance - in a good way.

All the tea and smoke filling her vision while she thought of her history seemed, while not necessarily realistic (no one really sees vision in their cigarette smoke unless you're smoking something else...), very honest. When you have a lot on your mind where do you go? A bar of course. (Well not me personally, but you know...lol) And having this kind of story where it's just a glimpse into someone's mind, and then being taken out so swiftly wanting more, is unfair.

So what should I do? Go read more of your work of course. :B

You're one of my favorite writers on this site now. I love the fact that you write stories (which I prefer) as much as poetry. Great job! Can't wait for more!

[Mirjana Ilic]

You are too kind my friend, thank you... really :)

[Robert Parlange]

Very good. You have a gift of narration.
The imagery is clear and draws you into the story.
It almost makes me want to take up smoking again. Shame on you.

[Mirjana Ilic]

My intention was not that, my apologies... Thanks though :)