Café 22: A New Beginning (Nora Keshk, Visionaries)

Café 22: A New Beginning

I curled my hands tightly around the warm cup of coffee, while the hustle of people going in and out created a pleasant hum into my ears. Slowly, I lifted the cup to my lips, gently sipping at the steaming drink and ignoring the sting on the tip of my tongue. Looking out the window, birds swoop from every direction hoping for a piece of crumb to feast on. The pavements were covered with pigeons that fought over the smallest speck of what may, or may not, be food. The noise from the traffic invaded my thoughts. Instead of writing in my diary, I decided to watch.

I watched the lonely customer, an old African-American man who sat at the front corner, order the same meal of raisin toast, scrambled eggs, and a cup of coffee on the early mornings of Sundays and the late nights of Wednesday. While drinking his coffee, he would hold the cup in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

I watched the old woman slowly walk in once a month with her teenage granddaughters. Her boisterous laughter and shining eyes announced to the world that she has never been happier.

I watched the couple in the last corner booth; hands and legs intertwined as they shared orange juice, waffles, and glances with one another.

And I watched Joey, whose smile brightened up the entire room as he took orders from customers.

Casting my gaze onto the worn table top, I tightened my grip on the cup in my hands. The feeling of longing for some sort of interaction rushed through my veins. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to have thoughtful conversations, to laugh, or to at least say hello to one of the many people that pass by me on a daily basis. But I can't; my fear will break down any thoughts of ever wanting to sound out a sentence before I even get the chance to speak a single word.

I wasn't always this way, so afraid of the world. A few years ago, I was a social-butterfly, talking to anyone who would listen. But then it all changed. I spoke too soon, said too much, and created a disaster that made me lose everything: my family, my friends, and the previous life I had.

I moved into a new town, changed my identity, and portrayed myself in public as the girl who never spoke that much. I became scared of ruining another life of mine, so I hid in here every day, never seen sparing a smile to the world around me. Now, I'm exhausted with living as this new character that isn't the real me. I want to yell, scream, and laugh so loudly that people will send me side glances. I want to live.

 I slowly put my cup on the table and slid out of the booth I was sitting in. My feet now had a mind of their own; however, the other one in my head was screaming "Stop! Sit down! Do you know what you're putting yourself through?"

 I wrung my hand nervously and stuffed trembling fingers into my pockets. Instead of focusing on the fear that was jittering inside of me, I kept track of my steps and kept moving forwards.

After what felt like a million-mile walk, I reached the front counter. Standing at the register and without looking up, he began speaking.

"Welcome to Café 22, where everyone can have a new beginning. How may I help you angel? You know I can take your order at your seat."

Instead of answering him, I shoved my right hand in front of me. With a small shaky voice and an unfamiliar smile stretching across my face, I said "Hi Joey, my name is Lila."