It is like time gave up in here. It’s relentless pace having slowed down to a crawl somewhere in the eighties. Only the view outside and the attire of some of the guests make it obvious that the third millennium is ready to start puberty. Their are no computer screens, not even the digital display of a clock breaks the analogue singularity of this intriguing place. One could imagine this cafe, moving through space at light speed, the perception of time dilated by velocities so close to the impossible. As relative time outside appears to speed up, the constant tick of the wall clock seems to slow down, lagging down the reality inside to a sigare smoked singularity.
I sit inside and revel in this unintentional authenticity. Tapping away at a device that will only be common knowledge to these people
somewhere in the latter half of the current year. I snicker because I kind off feel like a time traveler. Trapped in this pocked of the past amids the turmoils of the present. Slowly the man across from me folds his newspaper and leaves behind an empty glass of
red wine. He swaggers tentitavely toward the exit, leaving his cash on he counter as he leaves. The bartender bids him farewell in the heavy dialect of the region. The world I know feels lightyears away in these surroundings.. But I can live with that for now.
My portable companion tries in vain to pick up a stray wifi signal to connect cyberspace. “But this,” the picture of laurel and hardy on the wall seems to speak, ” is hyperspace ! This is a temporal bubble moving at velocities faster then light, the temporal distortion transforming the present into a far flung future.” Its a strange sentiment offered by a pair of comedians who sowed so much laughter in the days of black and white.
The sansiverias, their Leaves covered with old nicotine smoke, claw at the grey sky. Their sharp ends making them resemble an alien claw that tries to grasp the fleeting clouds. At a nearby table, a middle aged couple that just walked in, share a clumsy,akward attempt at romance. The sharp shreds of their past perturbing dangerously from every word they speak, from every touch they share. They to seem to find comfort in this temporal fold in space and time. The mismatched and outdated surroundings resembling a time where they were younger and free from the scars of oblivion.
The dissipating clouds seem to trigger my recall signal into temporal reality. As the sun starts to reflect on my far to glossy touchscreen I am reminded I have some errands to attend to. With mixed emotions I prepare to leave, choosing to ignore the discrete stares from some of the guests. Yet it leaves me to wonder who is the most fascinated with whom. I vow to return to this temporal anomaly again, for I have grown fond of how it is able to slow down the fast pace of my reality and gives me time to appreciate the sansiverias.