More than a cup of coffee

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Strangely, or should I rather say coincidently? Many of my previous posts were written in cafes. Cafes of different styles. Vintage cafes with an old-fashioned charm, stylish ones with prime focus on minimalism, family-run cafes with a homely atmosphere, and exotic taverns with beautiful sea views, located either on a Greek or Gran Canaria island.

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The window of an old house

The window of my bedroom faces a huge wooden house. Someone told me it was listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It must’ve gone through both WW1 and WW2. What happened to the people living in the house during the wars? Who were they? Did they have a good life? Any tragedies happened to these families? I had many questions.

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The cafe was closed

The wind was howling in the streets. The winter sun didn’t provide much warmth. Wrapped in layers of clothes, I could feel the wind penetrating my winter coat and wool sweater. The weather forecast set on my phone showed minus twelve with strong southwest wind.

I tried to push the door open, it was locked. I knocked on the door, no one answered. The cafe was closed. I had been longing to cuddle up on that Baroque style sofa covered with velvet in purple. I had been longing to get myself lost in some passing, incoherent thoughts, smelling freshly brewed Americano and cinnamon buns and hearing some nice pieces of Jazz. I had been longing to feel the charm of Australian accent.

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Friday evening

It was 8.20 pm. I sat at the dining table waiting for her to come. The garden was with covered with fresh snow and brightened by the glow of the outdoor lamps.

A message reached me a few seconds ago saying that she would be a bit late. We hadn’t seen one another for months. The connection between us, was it still there?

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When going skiing is not an option in winter

It has been snowing heavily for days now, the city has literally turned into a winter wonderland. In the mountains, the weather condition is ideal for those who are keen on winter sport.

Most Norwegians have a passion for skiing. It says “Norwegians were born with skies on their legs”, although “on their feet” seems to be a more appropriate translation in English. 

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Some winter thoughts

One of the hardest things for me to handle in the winter months is to get up in the morning. It is all quiet. From the dark sky, the moon is looking down on my tired face. No birds singing, no smell of freshly brewed coffee and croissants, no lively conversations from the neighbours who usually have breakfast on the terrace or in the garden during the summer months.

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The elderly lady at the university

I saw her again, the elder lady in her seventies, who was sitting in the corner of the blue fabric sofa outside the library. She was reading a newspaper, all her attention was paid to the front page it seemed, she didn’t turn the page. A half-empty lunch box was placed just beside her, she had already finished her coffee.

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The sadness in the eyes of the camels

It was the sadness in the eyes of the camels that touched my heart. The innocence and helplessness expressed through their eyes suggested that they had come to terms with the treatment being offered to them. They seemed to have come to terms with their fate, which was predetermined by human beings.

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